


Avatar Among Shadows

by Starts_with_a_D



Series: The Adventures of Avatar Merlin [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Airbending, Bending, Earthbending, F/M, Firebending, Gen, Genocide, Lightningbending, Spirit Traveling, Spiritbending, War, Waterbending, lavabending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-09-17 08:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16971078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starts_with_a_D/pseuds/Starts_with_a_D
Summary: A veneer of peace has rested over the Four Nations in the seven months since Morgana’s defeat. With Firelord Arthur and Queen Annis in full control of their thrones and Avatar Merlin nearing completion of his airbending training, all seems well. But nothing is ever as it seems.





	1. Prologue: Lineage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeneralSan_3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralSan_3/gifts).



> If you haven't read "Firelord Rising," I strongly suggest you do before diving into this fic. It is a sequel.
> 
> If you have read "FR" and just want a refresher on some of the characters, the last chapter of "FR" is a Cast of Characters.
> 
> Enjoy!

_ Air. Water. Earth. Fire. _

Years ago, the four nations lived in fear of Firelord Uther and his anti-bending regime. But then, everything changed when the firebender Morgana killed him and took his throne. Far from bringing peace to the world, Morgana proved herself to be a worse tyrant than Uther by conquering the Earth Kingdom using the power of Sozin’s Comet. Even after she was defeated and snuck into the shadows, the threat hasn’t passed, with new enemies slinking into the light.

In this time of war and land of fear, the destiny of four nations rests on the shoulders of two young men. Their names? Merlin and Arthur.

Some may have lost hope, but I believe they can save the world.

* * *

_ 15 years ago _

_ “No, don’t step there!!” _

Arthur misstepped, slipped, and fell onto his backside. He twisted around to glare at Morgana, who roared with laughter. Springing to his feet, he lunged.

Morgana wrapped her arms around his neck as they fell scrambling into the dirt. Being two years older, Morgana had several inches of height and years of training on him, and Arthur struggled to push her arms away. 

Finally, she pinned him. “Yield,” she demanded, her hand pressed to the back of Arthur’s neck, his arm twisted behind his back. “Say it!”

Arthur had never yielded to her, and he wasn’t going to start now. He wrenched against her knee pressed into his back. “I won’t! I won’t!”

“For the dragon’s sake!”

Morgana squealed as someone yanked her off Arthur. The prince gasped and rolled onto his back, pulling his arm to a more comfortable position with a groan.

Valdis, a veteran soldier, glared down at him. “What is going on here? Prince Arthur, I would expect more from you!”

Arthur clenched his teeth. “But, Morgana---”

“I’m going to have to tell your father about this,” Valdis warned, releasing her grip on Morgana’s collar. “This place is  _ dangerous _ ! Stop fooling around!”

With a final warning glance at Arthur and a curt nod to Morgana, she turned to stalk back to where the other soldiers were searching through houses and ruins.

Arthur stood slowly, rubbing his arm. Morgana smirked after Valdis.

“Dangerous, this place?” she said. “There’s nothing left but ruins.”

She and Arthur turned to examine their surroundings. Arthur, still smarting from Valdis’ rebuke, said nothing to her, but he silently agreed. It was hard to believe the Fire Nation had originated on this jungle-covered, ruined island.

“What are we even doing here, anyway?” Morgana muttered. “What a useless trip.”

They were surrounded by long, low, abode buildings crumbling under the weight of years, standing in clear grid patterns. All the roads in this place led to the pyramid temple in the center of the ancient city. They couldn’t see much of the temple from where they stood; in the five hundred years since anyone had lived here, the jungle had reclaimed most of the land. Trees and vines stretched across their field of view. Even the towering red airship wasn’t visible from where they stood.

Brightly colored birds and insects whizzed overhead. Somewhere, a hunting animal roared.

“Must have been a beautiful place, once,” Morgana mused, running her hand down a flaking wall. “The Sun Warriors were a proud race.”

Arthur shrugged, remembering what the Fire Sages had taught him. “They live on, in us.”

“Yes, I know we’re descended from them, but they’re still gone,” Morgana snapped.

“No, they’re not!” Arthur insisted. “Bruta Pendragon was a Sun Warrior, and he founded the Fire Nation! You literally have the blood of the Sun Warriors running through your veins.”

“Not much of a real Pendragon, am I?” she retorted. “Not when I have to bow down to a thirteen-year-old boy.”

It was an argument that was becoming more and more familiar in recent years, but Arthur rose to the bait anyway. “Maybe you should just get over it. You’ll never be the Firelord, no matter how much you insult me.”

Before Morgana could retort, he turned his back on her. His shoulder still ached, but he resisted the urge to rub or cradle it as he walked toward the pyramid, scrambling over rocks and under bushes to get closer. It was even hotter and more humid than the Fire Nation, though they were farther north, and his traveling clothes clung to his skin.

Arthur heard Morgana trudging behind him. He scowled, speeding up his pace. Perhaps she would leave him alone and get lost in the woods. He didn’t know what kinds of predators lurked in this jungle, but perhaps something would eat her.

When he was younger, he and Morgana had gotten along quite well, until they grew up and realized the awkward situation they were in. Morgana was the older child and should have been the Fire Princess . . . but she was illegitimate. Her father had died before she was even conceived, and there had been no way for her mother, Vivienne, to hide that Morgana was really Uther’s child.

Arthur’s own mother, Ygraine, had struggled to conceive for years, until the physician Alice came to the Fire Nation and worked her magic---a figure of speech, of course. She couldn’t really have used  _ magic _ .

If Arthur had never been born, Morgana would have been the heir. Even now, Arthur resented how much Uther favored her.

He shook these thoughts from his head. It didn’t matter anyway. One day,  _ he _ would be the Firelord, and Morgana would have to answer to  _ him _ . Then she would be sorry.

The temple loomed over him, a set of what must have been fifty steps leading up to the lower platform. Uther was in it somewhere, searching for ancient artifacts and who knows what else. Arthur was anxious to avoid his father, but the temple was intriguing.

Morgana still followed from a distance, so he started climbing. The steps were well-made but old, worn smooth in the middle and sloping. Arthur had to scramble a bit to keep his balance. When he finally stumbled to a halt at the top of the first set of stairs, he was breathing hard. He straightened his back and gasped.

A relief mural covered the wall before him, twenty feet high and more than twice as long. Carved into the stone were two huge dragons, sharp flames wreathing from their mouths and curling around the edges of their scales. One dragon was carved from a dark stone, and the other from a lighter stone. 

Arthur had never seen a real dragon before---his father had killed off the last dragons when he had been too small to remember---but his imagination had not prepared him for their majesty. Was it really possible for a creature to be this huge? They also didn’t look like the dragons from the illustrations---instead of resembling giant cats with wings, they looked like lizards, with their slim, whip-like bodies and small wings.

Morgana came up behind him, huffing and puffing. “Wow,” she gasped. “I’ve never seen such a detailed picture before.”

“I would love to see one of those in person,” Arthur breathed before he could stop himself, then sucked in his breath. It would be just like Morgana to tell Uther his traitorous words, especially after their little scuffle.

But she only smiled tentatively. “Me too.”

They wandered closer, Arthur reaching out a hand to touch the deep carving.

Morgana pointed. “What’s that?” 

In the middle of the relief, Arthur spied a tiny figure with flying hair and reaching arms carved between the curling flames. He couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a man or a woman. “What person would be crazy enough to get between two dragons?” he wondered.

“There’s writing,” Morgana pointed out, running her hands along the carved words on the bottom. “Too bad nobody speaks the old Sun Warrior language anymore. Maybe it’s telling a story.”

“The Tale of the Two Dragons and the Idiot Who Tried to Make Peace with Them,” Arthur joked. They both grinned.

“Perhaps it’s for the best that all the dragons are dead,” Arthur sighed, moving away and wandering toward a nearby opening in the building. Even after five hundred years, the stones still looked new and cared for. Valdis and other soldiers had warned Uther of booby traps in the city and temple, but Arthur hadn’t seen anything yet.

“They were noble creatures, Arthur,” Morgana responded, her smile gone, her expression troubled as she looked at the wide eyes and gaping mouths of the relief. “Some stories say they could even talk.”

“Talk?” Arthur scoffed. “They were animals, Morgana. Animals don’t talk. I bet they weren’t even that smart! I could take one down pretty easily.”

“They were  _ firebenders _ , too,” Morgana said, louder this time. “The first firebenders.”

“All the more reason to destroy them,” Arthur reasoned. “You know how firebenders are.”

Morgana’s nostrils flared. “Yes,  _ I  _ do. I think  _ you _ misunderstand.”

“I know enough.”

She laughed, nothing like the merry laugh from before. “You’re thirteen, Arthur,” she said, her voice dripping with scorn. “You don’t know anything.”

“You’re  _ only _ two years older,” he shot back. “That doesn’t make you some kind of expert.”

Her nostrils flared. “You think you know  _ so much _ , Arthur, but you’re just a clueless little kid.”

Arthur’s hands clenched into fists and he started toward her again, ready to fight even if she beat him bloody. Morgana smirked and jerked her head at the soldiers loitering at the bottom of the steps.

“Don’t bother,” she shrugged. “You know how Father feels about you fighting. He’ll punish you if you rip  _ another _ set of clothes. Great thundering dragons, Arthur, with all the clothes you go through, anyone would think you were still five.”

Steaming with anger, Arthur turned away and stalked through the doorway into the temple. It was all he could do, because she was right. He skirted around a hole in the floor and marched farther into the dimness.

“You can’t just run away every time I win an argument, you know,” Morgana’s voice drifted lazily after him. “If you’re so keen to be the Firelord, perhaps you should learn to  _ act _ like one.”

Arthur stopped short. She wanted him to act like a Firelord? So be it. He had power in the palace that even the favored Morgana didn’t. He whirled around and faced her, pacing forward again.

“Fine. I  _ will _ act like one. When we get back---”

Morgana’s eyes went wide. “Arthur---”

He ignored her, smirking slightly at the fear in her eyes. “---I’ll tell the cook that you  _ love _ wasabi. I’m the Fire Prince! She has to listen to me! You’ll never be able to eat your favorite foods again. And---”

“Arthur, don’t step there, you---”

“---I’ll tell the steward that you---”

Morgana’s voice turned sharp. “I’m telling you, Arthur, don’t step there!”

Arthur rolled his eyes and deliberately kept walking. Let her think she could trick him again, he would show her!

The tile under his foot shifted and clicked into place. A faraway breeze ruffled his hair; something in the darkness behind him shifted and growled. Two points of fire ignited.

Morgana’s eyes were wide. “What in the name of Bruta---”

It came out of the dark too quickly for Arthur to even react, a ten-foot mass of glowing eyes and gleaming scales. All he saw were teeth and flames.

Arthur stumbled as the dragon rushed him, a growling like growing flames ringing in his ears. He threw himself backward, screaming. Morgana gave a final “ _ Don’t! _ ” as the ground vanished beneath him.

He had forgotten about the hole in the floor. Down he fell, into darkness.

Arthur only lost consciousness for a moment, he was sure. Morgana was still calling after him when he raised his aching head, her voice high above him.

“I  _ told you _ , I  _ told you _ not to step there---”

A smooth, rubble-strewn floor beneath him, shadowy walls on either side. Where had the dragon gone? He couldn’t hear anymore growling, just Morgana’s gloating. 

A flickering light came up behind him. Arthur heard footsteps approaching, but they were too heavy to be Morgana’s.

Slowly, he turned on his side and raised his head, knowing exactly who he would see.

Uther pursed his lips when Arthur met his eyes. Even in his red and black traveling clothes, the Firelord looked tall and regal. Valdis and other guards stood behind the Firelord. A few of the guards were smirking and giggling behind their hands.

“What was that, Arthur?” Uther demanded abruptly, and Arthur hastened his feet, his head pounding, with a sharp pain in his heel and arm.

“Father, I---there was a dragon!”

Morgana dropped down through the hole in the ceiling to stand next to Uther, smirking as she brushed dust from her dark robes and trousers. “There was no dragon, Arthur,” she explained simply. “It was just a trap to  _ scare _ people. Papier-mache, if I know my materials correctly.” She inspected her nails for a second. “Which I do.”

Uther frowned. “You made all that fuss and almost cracked your head open over a paper dragon?”

Arthur clenched his hands behind his back to hide their trembling. “Father, I couldn’t see it all that well. And I wasn’t scared!”

“Morgana evidently saw it well enough.” The ice in the Firelord’s voice was almost enough to freeze Arthur to the bone.

“It wasn’t coming at  _ her _ \---”

“We’re leaving,” Uther continued, like Arthur hadn’t even said anything. “Make sure you have all your things.” He turned to Valdis. “Gather the other guards back to the airship. We’re not going to find it here.” She bowed and walked away, gesturing to the other guards to join her.

Arthur made a face at Morgana as soon as their father turned his back. “I told you not to step there,” was all she said with her arms folded.

He had fallen down one story, to the bottom floor of the temple. The path out was straightforward, only leading through two dusty chambers before the outside became visible. Uther directed them around other booby traps, Morgana grinning and Arthur hanging his head, wanting to hit her but not daring to in front of their father.

In the last chamber, Morgana fell behind, wandering over to a darkened corner as Uther strode confidently to the exit.

“What are you doing, Morgana?” Arthur snapped.

Uther turned. “Careful, we haven’t checked everywhere for traps,” he warned, his voice softening as it always did when he spoke to his daughter, but Morgana wasn’t listening. She crouched down in the dark, staring at the floor with her mouth half open.

“The tile’s broken,” she whispered, reaching down into what Arthur could now see was a cleft in the dusty floor. Craning his neck, a glitter and a gleam caught his eye in the pitch-black of the hole.

Uther stepped forward. “Careful, Morgana! We’ve already found traps left by the Sun Warriors!”

She didn’t listen, her mouth dropping open as she pulled the glittering object out of the broken floor. Arthur dropped to his knees on the floor beside her, straining his eyes to see in the darkness. Uther stopped dead, staring.

It was a bracelet, rusted and old. The only part that looked new was the dark orange crystal set in the middle, gleaming even in the dim room.

“Oh,” Morgana breathed. “That’s beautiful.”

She stared into it, entranced, like she was seeing something Arthur couldn’t. Her lips parted and she drew in a breath sharply.

Arthur reached out a hand to touch; he almost made it. Uther’s huge hand came out of the dark and snatched the bracelet.

“Father!” they both cried, jumping to their feet. Morgana made a grab for it, her green eyes scrunched, but Uther had already whipped out a handkerchief and wrapped it up.

“Don’t touch, Morgana!” Uther hissed. Morgana’s eyes narrowed.

“I found it!” she insisted, reaching for it again.

Uther grabbed her wrist. Morgana gave a cry as he squeezed, and Arthur, who had been about to snatch the crystal while Uther was distracted, gasped and froze.

“ _ I’m not joking, _ Morgana,” Uther growled, looking his daughter in the eye. She shrank away.

“Father, what---” Arthur started in the more subdued voice, but Uther had already dropped Morgana’s wrist and turned away, calling for the guards.

“Father!” Arthur insisted.

“Come, Arthur, Morgana,” their father commanded, his voice booming in the dark enclosed space. “We’re leaving. There’s nothing else to find here.”

Morgana was shaking, her jaw clenched tight, eyes narrowed and glittering. She cradled her bruising wrist to her chest. Arthur muttered a “Come on” at her and hurried after Uther.

The sun was lowering in the west, touching the tops of the ragged jungle. Roaring echoed from the trees, a cacophony of predators that set Arthur to shivering.

He crowded around Uther, ducking and weaving to keep sight of the cloth-covered crystal clenched in the Firelord’s hand. “What is it, Father?” Arthur asked, breathlessly keeping up with Uther’s long stride. “Do you know what it is?”

“Only in legends,” his father confessed, his eyebrows drawing together. “The legends of the dark days.”

“The dark days?” Morgana repeated, but Arthur interrupted impatiently.

“What doesn’t answer my question! What  _ is _ it?”

They were almost to the airship, soldiers pouring out of the buildings to join their Firelord at the gangplank. As they fell under the shadow of the huge ship, Uther finally answered.

“Something I’ve been searching for a long time.” In the shadow, his face looked grim, angry. “You should not have touched it, Morgana. I don’t want the touch of such evil magic on you.”

“Evil magic?” Morgana asked, her voice hushing. Uther only used that sort of language when he mentioned the forbidden topic: bending.

Arthur’s manservant and Morgana’s maid scurried over at that moment, beckoning Arthur and Morgana away from their father, ignoring their protests. There were interminable, unbearable moments when the servants fussed over them, brushing their dusty clothes, smoothing their wind-blown hair, and trying to ply them with dried fruits and cold drinks. Morgana caught Arthur’s eye as she batted her maid’s hand away, and a look passed between them that signified their previous argument would be forgotten in favor of this new mystery.

Later, the two curled up in an empty window sill, watching the land give way to endless sea and playing a string game. Morgana seemed distracted, losing the game again and again as she rarely did.

“Are you going to go back?” Arthur asked her abruptly.

“To the ruins?” she scoffed. “What’s there but booby traps and crumbling buildings? No, I’m more interested in that bracelet.”

“He said  _ crystals _ ,” Arthur mused, playing with the string thoughtlessly.

“If there is more than one, I’m going to find them, Arthur,” Morgana muttered, her eyes turned toward the ruins but not really seeing them. “And I’m going to get that crystal back.”


	2. Precipice

_ I never thought I would die this way, _ Merlin thought.

He looked to his left, where Lancelot smiled reassuringly at him. “You ready, Merlin?” the airbender asked, his tattooed hands rubbing together eagerly. “It’s almost your turn!”

Merlin tried to smile---he really did---then looked away quickly. Great bounding badgermoles, why had he agreed to this?

Wind whipped his clothes around him. He wore the airbending robes today, feeling slightly ridiculous in the pale yellow and bright orange. Even though it was what everyone else was wearing, he still felt conspicuous. He also didn’t understand why airbenders wore such thin clothes in their freezing mountain top temples. The wind was  _ always _ blowing, and most of them had shaved heads too. For his part, Merlin had barely survived the winter.

Elena pressed up against his right side, pushed by the clamoring crowd of airbenders. “I love the spring equinox!” she yelled into Merlin’s ear, her grin ready to split her face in half. “I’ve never done it here in the south though!”

“They really go all out here, don’t they?” Lancelot agreed, nodding in approval. Merlin had never felt so betrayed.

A roar went up in the crowd. Merlin cheered half-heartedly, then Lancelot said, “It’s your turn, Merlin!”

The crowd chanted: “Avatar! Avatar! Avatar!” Merlin was shunted forward, swallowing around the taste of bile in his throat.

Before him swayed a giant tower of airbenders, standing on each others’ shoulders, arms locked together. It must have been twenty airbenders high. A huge crowd clustered around the tower, supporting the base.

And Merlin’s job was climbing to the very top. Without airbending, falling, or otherwise upsetting  the tower.

Oh, had he forgot to mention that this human tower was right on the edge of a cliff? Yeah.

“Great spirits,” he grumbled, but it was too late. Edwin had materialized before him in the crowd, his scarred face serene in the bedlam.

“Are you prepared, Avatar?”

_ No _ , Merlin thought desperately, but seven months of airbending training had, if nothing else, taught him to keep a cheerful smile on his face at all times. “I’m ready!” was the only acceptable response.

Hands grabbed him from all sides, hoisting him up onto the backs and shoulders of the tower’s support, a heaving mass of dark-haired and bald airbenders, their faces turned up cheerfully to Merlin as he wavered on their shoulders. He found his balance, muttering apologies for his bony feet.

He heard Elena yell from behind him, “Go, Merlin!” She had wanted to be part of the tower, but had been prevented because of her missing right arm. Merlin had to do this. If not for himself, for her.

Merlin had shuttled from the Northern Air Temple in the fading summer, to the Western Air Temple in the worst of the winter, and now the Southern Air Temple in the brisk spring. Through it all, Elena had been his most constant companion and teacher, her unfailing smile and optimism bolstering him through bruises and disappointments. She only, of all the airbenders, knew of his faltering fear of heights that hadn’t lessened no matter how many cliffs the airbenders had pushed him off of. Not even Lancelot had managed to get that confession out of him.

If she could glide on the winds with only one hand, he could climb a tower. 

The first airbender in the tower was one of the tallest and strongest, but Merlin didn’t know his name. He had his knees slightly bent, which Merlin could imagine was incredibly uncomfortable.

Merlin took a deep breath in. Let it out. Placed his hand on the airbender’s shoulder and his foot on his knee and pulled himself up.

The first few were easy, pushing himself up on knees and shoulders and the special belts they wore around their waists. The wind buffeted the tower, and some of the airbenders whooped with joy---or fear, Merlin didn’t know. He froze, his muscles trembling with exertion, cold, and anxiety.

“Take your time, Avatar,” the airbender he was holding whispered, nodding at him in understanding. “There’s no rush.”

Merlin glanced down to see if he could pick out Elena and Lancelot in the crowd, but he was too high up.  _ You’re almost there _ , he told himself, trying to control his breathing. He wasn’t really, but the thought was comforting.

An especially strong gust of wind swayed the tower, and his foot slipped off of a knee. He almost fell, grabbing wildly for an arm, a shoulder, something to save him---

The Air Nomads around him grunted, muscles straining, hands tightening to keep together. The chain almost broke. 

Merlin sucked in a deep breath as he clung on, envisioning himself as a leaf on the wind like Iseldir had taught him. He was weightless and all the cares of the world were off his shoulders. He was completely free.

He reached for the next knee, the next arm, and almost fell again: there was nothing to grab. He had reached the top!

Encouraging whispers broke out around Merlin, and he pulled himself carefully up on top of the tower; it would not do to fall just as he reached the goal. Standing on orange-clad shoulders, he looked around.

Above him: The sky, blue; sun, shining fierce; clouds, white, scuttling.

Below him: The Air Temple, twisting paths, blue roofs, white walls gleaming in the sun. Even though the human tower didn’t even reach to the highest spire, the temple still looked tiny from this high up.

Around him: Mountains, sharp raised pillars covered with furry bushes and stunted trees. The sea surrounding the line of islands. It was an usually clear day, the hot sun burning away the almost perpetual clouds and fog.

And, far to the south, a horizon of white barely visible. The Southern Water Tribe.

Merlin watched that line of white for a moment, just like he had every day since he arrived in the south. But nothing had changed in the last couple months. The water stayed calm, blue, and empty.

He forced himself to look down at the airbenders. “How do I get down?” he choked out. He could guess the answer. It was always the answer with the airbenders.

“Jump.”

The chorus came from below: “Jump! Jump! Jump!”

The tower of airbenders was trembling from holding the pose. If Merlin didn’t jump now, he would be tumbling soon enough. He spied Elena’s blond hair in the crowd, with Lancelot’s flowing brown locks next to her. He took a deep breath and leaped.

The wind rushed into his eyes, pulling tears out. The ground came up astonishingly fast, and if it hadn’t been for the muscle memory ingrained in him for the last few months, he would have become mash on the stones below. He reoriented his body, feet first, arms slapping downward to create a current of air. His fall slowed dramatically, and by the time he landed, his bare feet touched the ground lightly. 

The airbenders exploded into cheers. It was such a small accomplishment, but they got excited over the slightest things.

Lancelot rushed over and dropped an arm over Merlin’s shoulder as the tower of airbenders disintegrated behind him. “Good job, my friend.”

Elena clung to Lancelot’s arm. “What a beautiful way to end your time with us, Merlin! You’ve done so well.”

Merlin tried to say something sarcastic, but he was still gasping for breath. 

Edwin appeared in the crowd, smiling softly. “I’ve watched you grow, young Avatar, and I’m proud I’ve been able to help you pass your airbending training.”

Merlin panted and grinned. “Thank you for letting me participate in the celebrations, Edwin! I’ve never had such an---interesting equinox before.”

“We’re sad you’re leaving tomorrow, Merlin,” Elena sighed. “We wish you could stay.”

“I wish you could come with me,” Merlin said. He would miss the airbenders, it was true, but it had been too long since he had seen his family.

“And travel through the swamps to visit a backwater village?” Elena said teasingly. Merlin poked her. “Besides, Lancelot has only just made a breakthrough on his research!” She snaked a cunning arm around Lancelot’s middle, and he grinned at her.

Merlin smirked at the two of them. Although the two had been friends for years, Lancelot had only just started to notice Elena the same way she noticed him. Their romance was young, but they were incredibly cute. Sometimes a little too much so. He pointedly looked away as Lancelot dropped a kiss on Elena’s lips.

“I wish we could come, but if I don’t get this research done now, I don’t know when I will,” Lancelot admitted.

“Your research about the Avatar?” Edwin asked, his scarred face twisting in interest.

Merlin winced a little, but couldn’t help leaning forward. The Southern Air Temple had an extensive library with thousands of old scrolls that no one read anymore. Lancelot had been searching his way through the library while Merlin and Elena had gallivanted around the Air Temple. Neither of them could read the language most of the books were written in, so they mostly left Lancelot to do the labor.

So far, Lancelot hadn’t had much luck with his research, but Merlin lived in a constant state of hope that there would be a breakthrough---and fear of what that breakthrough would reveal.

“You’ll have to share what you have learned with me,” Edwin said.  “But until that happens, I’ll just go . . . check everything is well with the flying bison then. Wouldn’t want anything to delay your departure tomorrow.”

With a last pat on Merlin’s shoulder, he moved away.

“And I am starving,” Elena said, grinning at Lancelot and Merlin. “Let’s go eat.”

“Yes, we should!” Merlin agreed. Just a few moments ago, the thought of food had made him feel ill, but now his stomach was rumbling.

Lancelot put his hand on Merlin’s elbow as they struggled through the crowd to the feasting hall. “Speaking of my research . . . Merlin, have you given much thought to what we talked about yesterday?”

Merlin tensed, then forced himself to relax. Elena watched, keenly interested, from Lancelot’s other side. “Oh, yes. I tried it during meditation today.”

The two airbenders nodded eagerly. “Yes?”

Merlin smiled nervously. “Can’t say I had any more luck than all of your other suggestions.”

Lancelot wilted a little bit. “I really thought that one would work.”

Elena elbowed him. “Where are you getting all this information anyway? Some musty old book?”

He grinned and slung an arm around her shoulder. “You’d been surprised how useful musty old books are!”

Merlin started walking a little faster, but Lancelot caught him elbow again. “Look, try it again tomorrow, yes? It might take more than one try.”

Merlin scowled. “The banana and onion juice tastes  _ foul _ . Why don’t you try it?”

Elena bit her lip. “Has it improved at all? I mean, you remember what Alator said . . .”

Merlin turned his head away. “I . . . no, it hasn’t improved. I’ve been trying, I swear. I just---”

“I know it must be hard for you, Merlin,” Lancelot said, glancing around to make sure there was no one listening in. “I was there on that airship too. I can’t even imagine how you must feel, but Alator is right: you must learn how to control it.”

Merlin couldn’t meet his eyes. What could he say? “I’m trying,” he repeated.

Lancelot’s eyes softened, and his gripping hand loosened. “I know, my friend. It’s just . . . this war is going to happen. I know it will. And I want you to be prepared.”

Merlin found it within him to smile. “You’re good friends. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you two.”

Elena grinned and punched his arm. “That’s right! Now, let’s go eat.”

Merlin sighed, allowing the two to lead him by the arm. His problem with the Avatar State was a subject he had been avoiding for months now. Alator had found the whole situation disturbing; according to him, most Avatars had problems  _ entering _ the Avatar State, which certainly wasn’t Merlin’s issue.

He shook his head. Despite Lancelot’s research, there had been no improvement. Lancelot and Elena never said anything, but sometimes it felt like they were suggesting he just needed to  _ try a little harder _ and it would all magically work.

“Avatar.”

Merlin turned automatically, sighing. Most airbenders were informal enough to call him by his real name, but some of the older monks kept with his title only.

An airbender strode toward him, long, light-brown hair waving around his ears, wearing only loose trousers and a sash thrown over his shoulder despite the chill.

“Alvarr,” Merlin greeted. He had only spoken with Alvarr once or twice; he intimidated Merlin slightly with his confidence and intense gaze.

“I hear you’re leaving tomorrow,” Alvarr continued.

“I don’t want to delay,” Merlin confirmed. “I haven’t had a chance to visit my family for almost three years. Now that I’m done with airbending training, I want to see them.”

Alvarr nodded, pursing his lips. “Tomorrow will be the spring equinox, our biggest celebration of the coming of summer. I’ve seen how you appreciate a good party; surely you’ll stay until the equinox is over.”

Merlin shook his head. “Edwin warned me that a storm is likely coming tomorrow. I want to make it to Kyoshi Island before it hits.”

“It was Edwin who suggested I invite you!” Alvarr insisted. “Perhaps you could stay for just a few days, until the storm ends. Then Elena and Lancelot can accompany you.” At Merlin’s side, Lancelot and Elena nodded vigorously. 

Merlin was still shaking his head. “I’d rather leave tomorrow morning before the storm hits. I’ve already conveyed my regrets to Edwin.”

“A pity. I assume you’ll be taking an air bison.” Merlin nodded. “I hope goes all well with you, Avatar.”

“Merlin,” he automatically corrected, but when Alvarr turned away, he found that he felt uneasy, in a way he hadn’t in months. Alvarr seemed to be a good man, but he was intense and serious. Besides, Merlin didn’t want to upset Edwin, who had put up with the last months of Merlin’s training, coaxing out Merlin’s inner airbender, pushing him beyond his limits. That human tower had really only been the last in a long line of crazy things Edwin had asked Merlin to do.

“Merlin?” Lancelot inquired, having already turned toward the feasting hall.

Merlin shook his head. It didn’t matter.  _ Nothing _ would stop him from seeing his mother.

* * *

After lunch, Elena begged Merlin to come with her and Lancelot down to the airball courts. Merlin reluctantly agreed, hoping his food wouldn’t come back up before he’d had the chance to digest most of it.

“Maybe we can get a whole two teams together!” Elena danced ahead of them, twirling with her hands in the air. Lancelot watched her with a soft smile---up until she tripped over her own robes. Then he started to laugh.

She scowled at him as he helped her up. “Stop laughing,” she commanded, but her mouth curled in a smile.

Merlin was laughing too, so hard it took him a moment to notice the commotion behind them. All the Air Temples he had visited and lived were always calm, serene places, but now loud voices pierced the air.

Lancelot raised Elena to her feet, clutching her left hand. “What is that noise?”

The clamor arose from the air bison living grounds. Frowning airbenders crowded around the entrance. Merlin, Elena, and Lancelot dashed closer.

“It must have been an accident,” the keeper of the flying bison yelled over the commotion. “No one among us would purposely hurt air bison like this!”

The three looked at each other quickly, than pushed through the crowd. A frantic scene met their eyes: bison moaning and growling in the corners, pools of what was obviously vomit on the ground, and scurrying airbenders soothing them.

“What happened?” Lancelot demanded of the keeper, who looked frazzled. “Are they ill?” With a gasp, Elena dashed off to find her own air bison, who was lying motionless on the ground.

The airbender shrugged helplessly, his eyebrows drawn together. “Probably something they ate. It came on fast! They only just had lunch a moment ago.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed, and he looked around.

“You were leaving tomorrow, weren’t you?” the keeper said, nodding sadly. “You might have to wait a couple days before they heal. But they should be fine! This happens from time-to-time---”

Merlin turned away. Lancelot muttered a hurried thank you from behind him and caught up with Merlin.

“Merlin, don’t be so upset! I’ll bet those air bison will be fine in the morning!”

Merlin surreptitiously glanced at the edge of the crowd, where he had glimpsed Alvarr. The airbender still watched him; Merlin’s stomach dropped when he saw Edwin at Alvarr’s side, looking over the air bison with furrowed brows. 

“I don’t think I can wait until morning, Lancelot,” Merlin murmured, ducking into a passageway. “I might not ever leave.”

Lancelot shook his head. “Why do you say that? Like us too much, eh?” This with a shaky smile.

“No,” Merlin rebutted, glimpsing Elena soothing her air bison’s brow with her hand. “I don’t think I can stay. There are people here who don’t want me to leave.”

Lancelot’s smile vanished. “What do you mean?”

“Alator warned me about this,” Merlin said, clenching his hands, eyes darting. “Before I left the Western Air Temple. He said people would want to control me. Keep me. Lancelot, I don’t think Edwin wants me to leave. I think he and Alvarr are trying to keep me here.”

“That’s a serious accusation,” Lancelot gasped. “Edwin has been nothing but kind to you here!”

“They’ve both been doing all they can to convince me to stay!” Merlin hissed. “And now this with the air bison? Edwin went to go ‘check on them’ earlier, remember?”

“You’re saying he might have poisoned them?” Lancelot’s  mouth hung open. “For what purpose? Do you think they’re working for Cenred or Morgana?”

Merlin had already considered the idea. “No, I can’t make sense of that either. But if they can control me, they can control the Avatar.”

“That’s a lot of power.”

“Yeah.”

Lancelot braced an elbow on the wall, his normally cheerful face thoughtful. “Merlin, we’ll get you out tonight.”

“You should come with me,” Merlin offered, but Lancelot shook his head.

“I can’t take that library with me, and you know how important my research could be. I’m about to make a breakthrough, I know it! Besides, you’ll have to use your glider instead of an air bison. That’ll be harder with more than one person.”

Merlin groaned at the thought of the two-day glider journey. There were islands he could stop at on the way, but all that airbending would still be exhausting. He would have to rest in Kyoshi island for sure. They were said to be friendly with Avatars; perhaps they would help him refuel and prepare for the overland journey to his home village near Omashu.

“Whatever happens,” Merlin whispered, “I must get away. Tonight.”

* * *

When Merlin and Lancelot snuck out, Elena stayed behind to delay suspicion about where Merlin had gone off to. Her air bison would pull through, the keeper had assured her, but her face had taken on an unfamiliar pinched look, almost like she was angry. 

The mists returned that night, curling around the Air Temple in a visual of the airbending nation’s symbol. It hid Merlin and Lancelot as they crept from the temple quarters, but it also made Merlin nervous. He wasn’t familiar with this part of the world. What if he got lost in the mists?

“Just follow the chain of islands up to the Earth Kingdom,” Lancelot whispered, his eyes peering left and right in the wide open corridors. “You’ll reach Kyoshi Island easily that way.”

“But Kyoshi Island broke off the mainland!” Merlin hissed, his hands twisting anxiously on the polished wood of his glider. “It’s not part of the chain!”

Lancelot hushed him; Merlin looked around nervously, but there was no one. “The mists will clear the more east you go. It’s hotter in that direction.”

Merlin nodded, the thought of finally returning to his home state of Omashu filling him with excitement and dread in the equal parts. He longed to see the towering trees, the air so full with moisture you felt like you were breathing water instead of drinking it, the insects, and fields and farms---and his family. He should have returned before traveling to the Northern Air Temple. Three years was too long.

He wondered how tall Will was now. His younger half-brother had been barely 18 when Merlin had left for the Fire Nation after Sozin’s Comet, a gangly boy full of anger. Merlin had longed to take Will with him, but it was better he hadn’t. Perhaps Will had grown up in more ways than one.

Merlin stepped to the edge of the temple and looked down. Complete blackness lay at his feet, a sheer drop to a quick death below. He snapped his glider open, heart fluttering in his chest. Alator had taught him how to fly at night, using the air around him to sense where obstacles were. It was similar to how firebending worked, but it still made him nervous. These peaks were tall---and solid. If he fell, there would be no one to catch him like there had been every other time.

Lancelot eyed him. “Are you sure you want to go tonight? Perhaps it was nothing with Edwin. You’ll be fine, and---”

“No, I have to go,” Merlin breathed, still looking out into the dark. “This is a good start. A good way to prove myself.”

He looked at Lancelot, who was smiling softly. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Merlin.”

“Only to myself.”

The airbending huffed out a laugh. “When you get back,” Lancelot added, grasping Merlin’s arm, “I have something interesting I want to show you in one of the books I found.”

“What about?”

“I’m not quite sure, but I think it’s connected to the Avatar Spirit,” Lancelot said. “You’ll have to look it over with me when we see each other again.”

Footsteps came from behind them. They turned with a gasp; Edwin stood there in his monk’s robes, frowning. “Merlin, what---?”

“Merlin, go!” Lancelot whispered, and Merlin did not wait for a second command. Clutching his glider in hand, he threw himself off the side of the temple, the freezing air stinging his skin. The last thing he heard as he caught the air currents and soared off into complete darkness was Edwin’s last, angry shout, “Merlin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who think I made that human tower thing up: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ISkPmnSJDGM


	3. Splinter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'd think I would have written over the winter break, but instead I read The Stormlight Archive and watched A Series of Unfortunate Events. Oh well! Hope you enjoy :D

Arthur swung Excalibur lazily in a circle and grinned. “Anyone else want to try?”

The soldiers around him, dressed in red and black like he was, hesitated. Cador, who lay panting at Arthur’s feet, groaned.

Valdis eyed the soldiers, then said, “Evening is coming, sire. Perhaps we should stop for today.”

Arthur nodded. “You’re right, captain.” He sheathed his sword. “You’re dismissed. Remember what we’ve practiced, we’ll go over it again tomorrow.”

He offered a hand to Cador, who took it. “Seven months,” the firebender groaned, rubbing his side where Arthur had slapped him with the flat of his sword. “Seven months, and I still can’t beat you.”

“You’re getting better,” Arthur assured him, and sent him off to change with a cheerful pat on the back.

Valdis came up to his side, smirking. “Those firebenders didn’t realize just how ineffective Nimueh was as a teacher until you came along, sire.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “That woman had no head for training. Why did you never tell her off?”

“Me, tell her off, sire?” She raised an eyebrow.

“You did it to me and Morgana often enough.”

“It’s different when the person you’re criticizing will smoke you with lightning.”

Arthur chuckled, leading the way into the cool, dark armory. Summer was fast approaching, and the sun had been hot on their heads.

He looked left and right, then tugged at Valdis’ arm. The other soldiers were nearby, removing their leather armor or splashing their faces with water, but no one was too close. Now was his chance.

“Valdis,” he said softly. “I have a request. I want to, uh---” Arthur glanced again at the other soldiers. None of them were paying attention. “I want to propose to Gwen,” he finished in a rush.

Emotions passed across her face, too quickly for him to interpret, but all she said was, “What do you need me to do?”

At Arthur’s clumsy request, Gwen had not returned with Elyan to the Earth Kingdom. Instead, she had allied herself with the royal blacksmith and currently used her slight skill in metalbending to help with his work. Now that she knew the truth about Arthur’s past, he had decided to start officially courting her.

There was just one slight problem: Gwen was an earthbender. From what Arthur could gather of the veiled words and allusions others cast at Gwen, they disapproved of her heritage, both as the daughter of a blacksmith and as an Earth citizen.

Arthur's father had spent most of his life fighting back against people who didn’t want a non-bender as a Firelord. Arthur’s birth, as another non-bender, had set off a rebellion which climaxed in the death of his mother and the illegalization of bending in the Fire Nation. The people of the Fire Nation were proud of their heritage as the children of dragons; Arthur felt ill when he imagined how they would react to an earthbender on the throne.

“I need allies,” he admitted, shaking all these thoughts from his head. “You know how everyone feels about Gwen.”

“Gwen is a fine woman,” Valdis assured him, unwinding her long silver hair from its sweaty bun.

“I know, but many people won’t see it like that,” Arthur said, twisting his mother’s ring. “All they will see is a peasant earthbender on the throne.”

Valdis looked at him closely, her gray hair gleaming in the soft light. “You know I respect Gwen. What are you really asking me, sire?”

Arthur hesitated. “We have fire in our blood, Valdis,” he said slowly. “And sometimes passionate people do things they regret. If anyone disagrees with my decision to marry Gwen, they might . . . try to stop it.”

Valdis took in a breath and nodded. “Gwen is a good woman, sire,” she said. “I will stay by her side---as long as she remains on your side.”

Arthur clapped Valdis on the shoulder, relief filling him up. “I knew I could count on you.”

Valdis nodded and returned to removing her armor. “When will you announce it, sire?”

“I’m asking her tomorrow,” Arthur said. “Hopefully, I will announce within the week.”

“Then, starting tomorrow, I’ll begin protecting her.”

Arthur opened his mouth to thank her, but the sound of a banging gong interrupted him. “Is that the alarm?” he asked incredulously.

A young firebender, Owain, skidded into the armory and barely remembered to sketch a bow to Arthur. “My lord! Ships! In the north!” he panted.

“Ships?” Arthur demanded, breaking into a run with Valdis and Owain behind him.

“An army, my lord!”

Arthur cursed and sped up. The lookout posts were a good five-minute run from the palace, but even the puffing Owain kept pace as they darted through streets and side-passages. Soldiers and citizens milled around, occasionally calling out to Arthur for guidance. He didn’t answer except to order the captain of the city watch to evacuate the lower city around the shore; if there really was an army of ships, he didn’t want innocent civilians in the way.

Gwen had reached one of the towers looking over the rim of the caldera with a few other soldiers and citizens when the three arrived. Arthur gripped her hand as he took his place at her side. He had never seen her look so fearful, but he understood why as he looked to sea.

Owain had not been exaggerating with the word “army.” A host of a hundred ships or more, with curved bows and blue sails, broke cleanly through the northern waters of the bay, moving faster than normal sailing ships. 

“What is this?” Valdis asked, her mouth dropping open and her eyes narrowing furiously. “Cenred attacking from the south?”

“Those aren’t from the Southern Water Tribe,” Arthur said, his hand tightening around Gwen’s. “They’re too big, and they have the crescent moon  _ and _ the waving sea on their sails, which would make them . . .”

“Northern,” Gwen finished. They had both spent weeks traveling in a Northern ship; they knew what they looked like. “But Olaf’s our ally! Why would he attack?”

“Perhaps he means not to attack?” Owain asked doubtfully. “Maybe . . . maybe he’s here to recruit you to attack Cenred?”

Even as Owain spoke, the sea around the ships surged. The surf at the beach far below pulled away from the beach in a rumbling line.

Arthur turned to snap at Valdis: “Ready the airships!” She dashed away, Owain at her heels. Arthur felt a surge of relief that he had ordered the shore evacuated. Now he could only hope it would be enough.

“What are they going to do?” Gwen gasped as Arthur pulled her in the other direction.

“Tsunami,” he answered. “We can’t fight something like that, of course---but we can attack from above.”

“Attack?” Gwen repeated. “Arthur, you don’t even know  _ why _ Olaf is attacking! You should try to talk with him first!”

“Gwen, it doesn’t  _ matter _ why!” he said shortly, still pulling her down the stairs at a run. “What matters is, he  _ is _ attacking. Whatever friendship we had is gone.”

She took her hand away to run properly and didn’t answer. 

The warning gong rang continuously, echoing around the caldera city. Even as he ran, Arthur felt the ground trembling as the tsunami approached. They wouldn’t have time to reach the airships before the first wave hit, but hopefully they could mount a counter-attack before the waves got high enough to destroy the docks and lower town.

Owain appeared before Arthur again, panting so hard that his message of “Airships---flying” was barely comprehensible. He stayed behind, gasping, as Arthur and Gwen turned the corner into the airship yard.

Three airships, the smaller cloth kind, loomed above their heads. Servants and soldiers scurried about, loading bombs, oil, arrows, and other weapons into the cramped baskets. 

Gwen took Arthur’s hand again. “I’ll stay and defend the palace,” she said. “I’m more use on the ground.” Arthur nodded and raced to the nearest airship.

“We’d better hurry,” he told Valdis. “The first wave should reach any moment.”

The ground rocked. Even in the caldera, Arthur felt the tsunami crash into the shoreline.

They would have to wait for one of the bigger, metal airships to be ready before they could launch a full-scale aerial attack. For now, each smaller balloon could only carry six people who would harry the ships with bombs. Eighteen soldiers, including Arthur and Valdis, jumped aboard and drew the ropes in.

Arthur turned to watch the ground sink away as firebenders forced hot air into the balloon. Gwen had her head turned up toward the sky, but she quickly fell out of sight.

The balloon rose higher and passed over the edge of the caldera. Arthur leaned over the side, anxiously scanning the ground below.

The gates leading into the harbor were gone, smashed to bits by the tsunami. Closest to the docks was the royal plaza, a long open space surrounded the cliffs that had often served the Fire Nation well in sea attacks. It left attackers exposed against war towers on either side. Behind the towers looming over the plaza was the lower town, a conglomeration of residential and commercial buildings scattered in the gorge that led up to the palace.

The first wave had reached up past the royal plaza, the narrow opening behind the docks tunneling the water right into the lower town behind. The cliffs had protected most of the town, but the houses and shops in the lower gorge were simply gone.

And the water was pulling back again.

Arthur gaped at the destruction. The plaza, which was mostly open space, looked about the same, but the war towers were smashed to bits against the cliffs and one of the statues was leaning dangerously.

“Olaf will pay for this,” one of the soldiers behind Arthur growled.

Arthur’s hands clenched into fists. Yes. Olaf would.

His eyes slid to the approaching war ships. A hundred ships could not be beaten by three airships, but they would surely try. Until their last breath.

“How did they get past the sentries at the bay mouth?” another soldier muttered.

Arthur didn’t have an answer for that. A fleet this huge should have set off a chain of alarms that would have reached the capital long before the ships did. He felt cold at what must have happened to prevent those alarms.

“Ready the bombs,” he ordered. Even with waterbenders pushing the ships, the swift airships would still reach them before the ships had reached the shore. “Let’s blow them out of the water.”

The soldiers obeyed without hesitation, heaving the heavy contact bombs into the light. He held it very carefully as he helped a soldier haul it up to the basket’s rim. They were almost over the first wave of ships.

A second wave was building toward the shore, even larger than the last one. They were too high up, but Arthur still imagined he could hear it roaring. 

“Release!” he roared.

They heaved their bombs over the sides, with the other two air balloons following suit. Arthur leaned over, watching carefully. Most of the bombs wouldn’t hit a ship, but that wasn’t the point.

The bombs detonated as they hit the ocean or when the Tribesmen tried to slap them out of the air with their bending, the wooden containers spraying shrapnel and sending fountains of water high into the air. The bombs were recent inventions from Morgana’s reign, specifically to fight waterbenders. The contents exploded on contact with water.

Only one ship started sinking, but Arthur was satisfied to see other ships slowing down, probably to plug holes blown in them from the bombs. “Keep them coming!” he ordered, bending over to retrieve another.

The second wave hit, demolishing what was left of the war towers and smashing farther into the lower town. Most of the warships weren’t at this dock, which was Arthur’s only consolation as merchant ships splintered against the cliffs, spilling precious cargo into the water. 

Arthur pushed the next bomb off the side by himself, anger and energy thrumming through his veins. He wondered if this was what firebenders felt like all the time.

“We’ve incapacitated a few of them!” a soldier cheered, watching a few more ships slow or stop.

Arthur ground his teeth. “Not enough. They’re almost to the docks!”

There was no one on the docks, of course. His army wasn’t  _ that _ stupid. They would be waiting in the gorge higher up, hopefully above where even this huge force could push a wave. There, they would trap the Water Tribe army.

“We should head back soon,” Arthur said. “We’ve done what we can.”

He turned to signal to Valdis in the other airship, when something huge and metal burst through the bottom of the balloon, impaling the furnace. The furnace lurched and spewed fire in all directions. The pilot screamed as burning wood fell onto his lap, setting fire to his clothes.

“Sire! Missiles!”

Arthur could see  _ that _ . He struggled to wave smoke out of his face as the firebenders quenched the spreading fire. The balloon lurched  . . . and started to fall.

There were only two firebenders on their balloon; they took turns punching fire into the sagging balloon, while Arthur pushed the sobbing pilot into another soldier’s arms and took the rudder.

“We’ll have to head for the cliffs!” he yelled over the commotion, inwardly berating himself for not noticing the Water Tribe had ballistas. Bolts like spears shot up around the three air balloons, but so far the other two had avoided a direct hit.

The attack had happened so quickly . . . they had been totally unprepared. Why had Olaf done this?

Arthur’s grip on the rudder tightened, the metal squealing. It didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, Olaf would pay for this unprovoked attack.

The firebenders, though both were gasping for air at the point, managed to keep the balloon in the air, even pulling ahead of the Water Tribe fleet, which was now entering the main dock area and streaming full speed ahead toward the royal plaza. A third, final tsunami was rising in their wake, lifting the ships as it streamed toward the dock.

They were almost to the cliffs---which was of course when another missile streamed through the air and punched a hole right through the envelope. The balloon lurched, throwing everyone against the side. Air screamed out through the holes, and the balloon plummeted.

“Keep it in the air!” Arthur yelled over the wind, not knowing where to look--- the cliffs, or the approaching tsunami. The world spun around them sickeningly, a blur of blue sky and brown earth.

“It---won’t!!!!” one of the firebenders yelled, throwing a huge blast of fire at the envelope, which of course lit on fire.

Arthur threw himself at the soldiers, knocking them to the floor of the balloon, as they crashed into cliff, a good twenty feet from the top. Arthur slammed against the furnace, which belched flames. He yelled, jerking away from the burning metal, but someone had landed on top of him and he couldn’t move. He smelled his skin burning.

With a rumbling boom, the balloon slipped and fell the rest of the way into the plaza. The basket finally gave out, some of it smashing to pieces on the ground, other pieces catching fire.

Arthur groaned, struggling to his feet. He couldn’t feel his burned arm, but there was no time to worry about that. They had made it to land, but not to safety. 

“Get up. Get up!” he urged the soldiers. The ground shook and wind tore at them, stinking of fish and brine. “We’ve got to move  _ now _ .”

At least one of the soldiers was dead, crushed under the smoking furnace. Another could barely walk. 

“The tsunami,” the burned pilot whimpered. 

Arthur yanked him to his feet with his good arm. The other airships were turning frantically to reach them, lowering ropes, but---

But it was too late. The tsunami towered over them, a foaming wave roaring toward the cliffs with deadly force.

The pilot collapsed again, whimpering. Arthur let him, but did not release his arm. Someone was running toward them on Arthur’s left, yelling, but he didn’t look. The other soldiers crowded around Arthur, like they were trying to protect him or something. Protect him against a tsunami?

What a stupid way to die. Killed by his own supposed ally. He should have known that Olaf would never really trust a murderer like him.

As the water blocked out the sun, Arthur closed his eyes.

The blow never came. The water roared in his ears, but he did not find himself flying backwards into the cliffs.

He opened his eyes, gaping.

On his left: a woman with dark hair looked back at him. She had one dark green eye, and one bright green eye surrounded by dark fur like a cat.

On his right: a tall, blond man with huge muscles and lots of weapons.

They were both waterbending the tsunami around them, redirecting the water to the sides and above. Some water sloshed around their feet, but that was it.

It took several minutes for the water to subside, dragging and leaving ragged wood, house tiles, and bodies in its wake.

Percival and Freya turned to face them, their faces pinched up with worry. “Arthur! I can’t say how glad I am to see you---” Percival began.

Arthur yanked Excalibur out of its sheath and lunged.

Freya stepped in front of him, and he froze. Oh spirits, he couldn’t kill Freya with the sword  _ she _ had given him! “Arthur! You have a right to be angry. But please, listen to us!”

He clenched his teeth. “What are you  _ doing _ here?” he snarled. Behind him, the soldiers drew weapons and ignited fire.

Percival raised his hands placatingly. “We snuck off the ship.  Olaf doesn’t know we’re here. Arthur, he’s not thinking straight---we tried to talk some sense into him---”

“Wh0, Olaf?”

“If you just come talk with him---”

Arthur lowered Excalibur unwillingly. “I’m not talking until you call the attack off the city,” he snapped.

“But he thinks you attacked first! If you just explained---” Percival looked desperate.

“I’m  _ not _ talking with Olaf until he calls the attack off!” Arthur yelled, his eyes narrowing. Freya flinched. “My people are dying here! Olaf was supposed to be my ally, and I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing, but I’m  _ not _ \---”

He waved his left arm for emphasis and almost passed out from the sudden pain. The arm was definitely broken as well as burned.

Freya and the soldiers grabbed him to steady him. “Back off, waterbender,” the remaining firebender snarled, pushing her away.

The pain cleared Arthur’s head somewhat. “Wait, wait.” He had gotten them into trouble by rushing into the offense without thinking first. He  _ knew _ Percival and Freya. They would never betray him . . . without cause. And Gwen had been right: He should have tried to find out what Olaf was thinking before attacking.

The two remaining air balloons loomed over them. The tall Water Tribe ships had restrained any other waves and were pulling into the plaza at their side. From what Arthur could see of their soldiers, they didn’t look happy. In his side vision, he could see three other airships, the huge metal kind, rising from the caldera, and troops marching down the paths from the palace.

He sheathed Excalibur. “You’d better talk fast. Looks like we don’t have much time.”


	4. Tempest

Bayard leaned back in his chair, smirking like he had just won the world. “And, thanks to their acts during the Southern Wars, the Kyoshi Warriors are the pride of the south.”

“But they never leave their island,” Annis pointed out, her voice stiff but her face interested. Despite the rocking of the ship, she sat perfectly straight and firm

“They don’t,” Bayard agreed, seemingly unbothered by this fact. “But we are safe from an attack from the south. No one can defeat our girls.”

The way he said it, like he had personally trained Kyoshi’s Warriors, rankled with Mithian, but she forced a smile on her face. “We look forward to seeing them in action,” she said.

Apparently she didn’t look interested enough, for Annis gave her a disapproving look. She could talk, really; Annis never smiled.

“When will we reach the island?” Annis asked, scanning the horizon.

“By late afternoon, Your Majesty,” Bayard responded.

Mithian resisted the urges to yawn and raise her arms in the air to let the wind cool her armpits. Neither of them were princess-y acts, and her mother had urged her to impress Bayard.

Mithian didn’t know why Annis cared; Bayard was the king of Omashu, a tributary to the Earth Kingdom. Annis---if not Mithian---outranked him in about a thousand different ways.

Bayard didn’t seem to understand that. He had procured, it seemed to Mithian, a highly unsuitable ship for the needs of the Earth Queen and Princess, one that barely held their retinue. Annis and Mithian had been forced to share a small cabin, something not benefiting their stations.

If Bayard couldn’t be bothered to impress his own queen, why should Mithian bother to impress him?

At least they weren’t with him for long, just for the tour of the southwestern Earth Kingdom. She was, at least, grateful for his guidance. The south was nothing like what she had expected: hot, humid, full of trees and deserts, sea and land.

The most amazing part had been the people, who were so different than the cultured aristocrats she knew from Ba Sing Se. These were farmers, pure and simple, clinging to life in the southern sand. Their clothing was different than in the north---and they wore less clothing too, not that she blamed them, with the weather getting so hot even though it was barely spring. All the same, all those bare legs and arms had her blushing.

The weather was also totally different, too: Mithian was used to the hot, dry air of the north, with mild winters and sweltering summers. This had followed them on their journey to Omashu, but almost as soon as they had entered the boat to travel south to Chin and Kyoshi, the weather had changed. The air grew even warmer and humid, something she remembered from the Fire Nation.

And now, as the sun westered, Kyoshi Island rose up ahead of them, a crescent-shaped mass with low peaks and a collection of green buildings beneath them. 

To their right, an elephant koi leapt into the air, rocking the ship. Some of the guards stood on the sides of the boat, weapons at the ready.

“What are the guards doing?” Mithian asking curiously.

“This bay holds a beast called the unagi,” Bayard explained. “It often eats the elephant koi, and we want to discourage it from thinking we can be taken so easily.”

Mithian stared as another giant koi leapt into the air. Something that ate those would have to be massive indeed.

The dock wasn’t long enough for the ship to reach, so they weighed anchor out in the bay and an unspeaking boatman rowed them to shore in shifts. A small collection of men and women waited for them on the docks.

Behind her, Leon sucked in a quick breath. Mithian felt a grin grow on her face as she recognized one of the people on the dock.

“Merlin!” Mithian yelled, and flung her arms around him. “What are you doing here?”

“I just finished my training at the Southern Air Temple!” Merlin responded, hugging her back with equal vigor. “Now I’m heading back north to visit my family for a time. What about you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, turning to Annis with wide eyes. “Your Majesty!” he gasped, and almost fell over bowing. “I should have greeted you first, I’m so sorry---”

“You haven’t changed much,” Annis grumbled, but held out her hand for Merlin to kiss. “It’s been a while, Avatar.”

“Spirits, not you too,” Merlin grumbled. “It’s like I don’t even have a name anymore. Do me a favor, my queen; call me ‘fool,’ just like old times. Please? I can’t handle all this ‘Avatar’ nonsense.”

“Nonsense, you say?” Annis replied, looking amused. Merlin’s disrespectful antics had always seemed to amuse more than annoy her, much to Mithian’s relief. “Alright, fool, have it your way. But don’t say you have been shirking your Avatar duties!”

Merlin hastened to assure her of his devotion of the sacred Avatar calling, then there was another commotion as Merlin threw himself on Leon and Elyan and clamored for news, only composing himself to be introduced to Bayard.

“It’s nice to meet the man who rules Omashu,” Merlin said, looking more respectful and still than Mithian had ever seen, even with her mother or Arthur. “My family owes their livelihoods to you.”

“A king does what he can,” Bayard said, but he looked pleased. “I’m proud that yet another Avatar has arisen from my district.”

“Yes, the south does seem to claim that pleasure quite a bit, doesn’t it?” Annis said, pursing her lips. She turned to the others on the dock; two of the women, Mithian noted with interest, wore the green clothes and white face paint of the Kyoshi Warriors.

“Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” a warrior with dark curly hair said. “My name is Kara, and this is my fellow warrior Eira.” She gestured to the blonde woman at her side. “We welcome you to Kyoshi Island.”

Annis nodded at them. “A pleasure. I’ve been impressed by what I’ve heard about your warriors. Perhaps a demonstration of your skills later today?”

Kara’s eyes shone with pleasure. “Of course, Your Majesty!” She seemed starstruck, even as Annis turned away to converse with the village elders.

“Where are the others?” Mithian asked, claiming Merlin’s attentions. “Lancelot, Elena?”

“They’ve stayed behind in the Southern Air Temple.”

“They’ll want to be careful,” Eira said, worrying her lower lip. “Tensions are rising again with the Water Tribes. It’s only a matter of time before one of them attacks.”

“Olaf is our ally; he would never attack us. But Cenred is a worry,” Mithian agreed, putting her chin in her hand. “It’s been seven months. I don’t know why Morgana or Morgause haven’t come out of the earth yet. It’s like they’ve just disappeared.”

Merlin looked troubled, but said, “If Cenred attacks them up in that mountain, he’ll regret it. The Air Nomads are stronger than they appear.”

“And if he attacks here, he’ll regret it as well!” Eira said, standing straighter. “Our warriors have held off all attacks for centuries. Let them try.”

A smooth, laughing voice came from behind the group. “Don’t underestimate Cenred’s stupidity, Eira.”

Mithian almost froze, spinning around to face the speaker, then forced herself to relax. “Well, well, look what the catbird dragged in,” she said cooly. 

Gwaine looked just as she remembered: tall, dark and gorgeous. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, winking at her from under his eyelashes. “Not the catbird, just a certain Kyoshi Warrior.”

Eira rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Your Highness; he’s assisting in our intelligence gathering!”

Mithian realized Gwaine was still holding her hand and pulled it away quickly. “Intelligence gathering?”

“Well, I  _ was _ born and raised in the Southern Water Tribe,” Gwaine pointed out, slinging an arm around Eira’s shoulders. Mithian swallowed and looked away. “I have knowledge of their strengths and weaknesses. When Eira contacted me, I figured it made sense to be near where all the action was.”

“Today has been one big reunion!” Merlin said, stepping into the conversation again. “If only Lancelot and Elena were here.”

“Why didn’t they come?” Mithian asked quickly, then remembered she had already asked.

“Lancelot is intent on reading his way through the Southern Air Temple’s library, and Elena wouldn’t leave him, of course.”

Gwaine laughed. “Did dear old Lance finally get over his infatuation with Gwen and realize what was under his nose?”

“Yes! He and Elena are quite happy. I don’t really know how Air Nomad weddings work, but I hope we’ll be getting good news soon!”

“Do airbenders even  _ get _ married?” Mithian questioned, realizing she had no idea. “I mean, they don’t raise their own children, right? They’re raised communally.”

Merlin hesitated, then shrugged. “I was with them for seven months and never saw a marriage, but who knows?”

A young boy slipped up to the group to announce shyly that dinner had been laid out, and Mithian and Merlin continued a lively speculation on airbender weddings all the way down the road to the village hall. It looked like the whole of Kyoshi Island had come out for the feast. Annis, Mithian, and Bayard took their spots at the front of the hall on a raised platform. Merlin went to sit in the crowd with Gwaine and Eira, but Annis beckoned to him imperiously. 

“Don’t be silly, Merlin,” she said. “Come sit at my side.”

Mithian felt a moment of triumph to see Bayard booted from his seat to make room for Merlin. The southern king pursed his lips but said nothing.

Merlin peered into his cup. “Ugh, mead,” he muttered, then blushed under Annis’ eye. “Sorry, this is one thing I have  _ not _ missed about the Earth Kingdom.”

“I love it!” Mithian put it. “Here, trade with me, I have wine.”

Merlin traded eagerly, then said, “How’s the lavabending? It looked impressive the last time I saw!”

Mithian shrugged. “Hard without George to instruct me. I’ve looked far and wide for a master in Ba Sing Se, but apparently everyone thought lavabending was a skill reserved only for Avatars!”

Merlin whistled. “My lady! You’ll be stealing my job soon enough.”

“Despite her lack of a teacher, Mithian has been progressing adequately in her studies,” Annis said. Was that a hint of approval in her eyes? Mithian blushed. “I just wish she would spend as much time in the council chambers with me as she does in the courtyards with the Dai Li.”

Mithian looked away. “Yes, Mother. You know I love being part of your council.”

“Perhaps you should show it then,” Annis continued sternly. Mithian saw Merlin and Bayard exchange awkward glances. “You’ll be queen one of these days, Mithian. Bending is an important skill, but I think you will find that you’ll spend much more time negotiating than you do fighting.”

Seven months ago, Mithian would have loved to have sat in on a council session with her mother. Anything to get her mother to trust her. But when she had temporarily ran away on the quest with Arthur and the others, she had tasted the freedom that princesses and queens didn’t have.

“Can’t I train too?” Mithian insisted, the lines of the familiar argument rising to her lips. “Why, Avatar Kyoshi, whose sacred island we sit on, solved most of her problems by crushing them with earthbending!”

“Why are you so sure you’ll be fighting in this war, daughter?” Annis responded, toying with her chopsticks like she wanted to stab something.

“A good leader joins her troops in battle,” Mithian said. “That’s what all the kings and queens in times past have done.”

Annis clenched her jaw. “You have seen enough of war. You needn’t fight on the front lines.”

“It’s an admirable goal, my lady!” Bayard interjected, leaning around Merlin and Annis to nod solemnly at Mithian. “Troops appreciate a leader who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. But there’s not need to for you to take the front lines, as your mother has said. That’s what the Council of Five Generals is for.”

“I’m not going to leave everything for the Earth Kingdom’s generals to manage when  _ I _ am queen,” Mithian insisted, resisting the petty urge to throw a piece of elephant koi at Bayard. “I will stand with my people.”

Annis’ hands were clenched, and Mithian thought with a jolt she had gone too far. But her mother said nothing---at least not yet, in public.

Merlin coughed awkwardly. “What excellent fish! Having been among the airbenders for so long, it’s many months since I’ve had meat.”

While everyone else hastened to praise the cook and food, Merlin shot Mithian a pitying look over Annis’s back. “You should find George. Convince him to teach you in Ba Sing Se.”

“Leon tried,” Mithian moaned. “He refused to leave ‘his ladies.’”

“Those three creepy elders in Disir?” Merlin shuddered.

“He’s quite devoted to them.” Mithian shook her head, then lowered her voice. “Speaking of devotion.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “When are you starting your waterbending training with a  _ certain  _ brunette lady?”

Merlin looked away, but not fast enough to hide his smile and blush. In the side of her vision, Mithian saw Leon and Elyan lean forward eagerly. “That’s not set in stone.”

She smirked. “I’m an earthbender, Merlin. Let  _ me _ decide what is set in stone. And don’t avoid question.”

“Freya visited the Northern Air Temple, once, before winter came,” Merlin said, swigging his wine. “She did tell me to join her in the north when I was done learning airbending.” His entire face was red now.

She grinned and squealed, earning a disapproving look from Annis. “Merlin!” They dissolved into laughter.

Leon cleared his throat delicately. “Speaking of marriage . . .”

Merlin choked. “Oh, it’s nowhere near that! We’ll see what happens . . . I won’t want to stay in the cold, wild north  _ all _ the time.”

Mithian wiggled her eyebrows again. “You’ll soon be singing a different tune! I’ll check for message hawks daily.” Merlin made a face at her behind her mother.

The sun slowly sunk toward the ocean and the dinner party moved outside. Merlin watched the sun lower for a moment.

“I must fly,” he said regretfully, taking Annis’ offered hand and kissing it again. “I want to make it to Chin by nightfall.”

“Send our regards to your mother and father,” Annis said regally. Merlin blinked as she bent her head. “Our hopes go with you, Avatar.”

He bowed low, and then winked at Mithian. She grinned and bowed.

“When you have learned the inferior art of waterbending, Merlin,” she said, “come to Ba Sing Se and learn earthbending with me. I have masters enough for the both of us.”

Merlin’s eyes brightened. “That I shall, Your Highness! I look forward to learning from you. Spirits protect you all.”

He was gone, twirling his glider in his hand. Mithian watched him flit off into the growing darkness with a sinking heart. She hoped he made it to his family. She got the feeling the fragile peace was going to head south quite soon.

* * *

Almost before Merlin was out of sight, the Kyoshi Warriors raised a cry to gather in the town center; it was time for their demonstration.

Mithian joined her mother on the first bench with a feeling of excitement: Even though the warriors rarely left their small village, she had heard tales of their skill even in Ba Sing Se.

“Gather round, gather round!” Kara called as children raced to sit on the ground in front of the benches. A hush fell over the crowd. Even the villagers, who had surely seen the warriors in action hundreds of times, leaned forward eagerly. “We welcome the queen of the Earth Kingdom, Annis, Princess Mithian, and King Bayard of Omashu! 

The other warriors crowded around her, their white face paint glowing orange in the fiery sunset. Mithian saw Eira wink at Gwaine, who lounged on the ground surrounded by children.

“First, the Kyoshi salute,” Kara announced, and whipped out her fan.

Mithian leaned forward, clasping her hands together. The warriors moved perfectly in sync, their bodies low and centered toward the ground like an earthbender.

“What I wouldn’t give to study with those girls,” Mithian whispered, just loud enough for her mother to hear. “If you would let me.”

“I can’t let my only child gallivant around the southern Earth Kingdom when she should be preparing to be queen,” Annis whispered back.

She said it like there was no point in arguing, but Mithian gave it a go anyway. “I don’t want to be stuck in council chambers all my life,” Mithian protested, keeping her voice low. The sounds of warriors covered most sound, as well as the oooohing and ahhhing of the villagers and the chattering of excited children. “The winds are changing, Mother. You’ve got to let me learn to fight.”

“You’re a princess, the heir---”

“Arthur learned how to fight, and he was the heir!” Mithian protested, then lowered her voice again when a couple people turned to look. “Some Earth kings have gone off to war. Is it because I’m a woman? Is it?”

“This has nothing to do with you being a women, Mithian,” Annis sighed. “This has to do with your _ place _ in the world. You have to lead!”

“I will lead! From the battlefield!”

“No, with diplomacy! With peace! That is how this war will be solved! Not with thousands dying on some unnamed hill!”

“But what if I could save them? This skill I have---”

“What, lavabending?” The queen actually scoffed.

“Yes! What if I could---”

“No more, Mithian,” Annis warned.

“I’m not a child anymore, Mother,” Mithian hissed. “One of these days,  _ I’ll _ be queen, and I’ll take the route I want.”

“You may regret it,” Annis said coldly, and said no more.

Mithian wasn’t sure how she managed to stay in her seat until the demonstration was over, but she rose as soon as Annis did, bowed shortly, and walked off. Behind her came whispers, and she saw Bayard watching with interest out of the corner of her eye.

Two shadows detached themselves from the edges of the crowd and followed her down the empty road.

She sighed, trying to breathe her anger out. It didn’t work, but her voice was steady as she said, “You don’t have to follow me everywhere, not here.”

“Threats can come from any side, my lady,” Leon said respectfully.

Mithian slowed down so Leon and Elyan could flank her on either side. The dock came up before them, two people standing on it; the setting sun haloed their silhouettes in gold. “Why is she so disapproving of what I want? Not every queen has to fit a mold, you know!”

Elyan nodded briskly until Leon shot him a dark look. Mithian sighed. Leon was a good friend and advisor, but it was no use making him speak out against his queen, even on things he might have agreed on.

The very bottom edge of the sun had kissed the horizon. Mithian scanned the darkening waters, wondering if she might see the Southern Air Temple from here, but all she saw was that the two people on the dock were Gwaine and Eira. Eira also looked out to the water, her brow furrowed, and Gwaine had a hand on her arm.

Elyan’s face brightened, and he broke away from Mithian and Leon to join Gwaine. Leon sighed but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, Eira,” Gwaine was saying, his voice drifting toward them. “You know how airbenders are.”

“But they’ve never done this before,” Eira protested. “In all my years on this island, they have never been  _ this _ late.”

“What happened?” Elyan asked, slinging an arm around Gwaine’s shoulders. “What about the airbenders?” Frowning, Mithian wandered closer.

“We should have an air bison from the Southern Air Temple by now,” Eira responded, turning to face them. “They come every weekend to trade with us. I don’t understand why they aren’t here yet.”

“There’s a storm,” Gwaine said. “They wouldn’t come in that.”

“Yes, they would,” Eira insisted. “They’ve never missed. I’m worried!”

“I’m sure all is well,” Leon said. “The Avatar assured us they are strong. Perhaps, with their equinox festivities, they’re coming tomorrow.”

Gwaine smirked and shook his head. “Airbenders are easily distracted. Why, do you remember how Elena was?”

Mithian felt a spike of annoyance. “Elena wasn’t easily distracted,” she snapped. “She was happy and innocent, even when times were hard.”

“Never said she wasn’t, princess,” Gwaine replied easily. “In fact, perhaps you could learn a thing or two from her.”

Mithian folded her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You seem a little tense,” Gwaine observed, turning away from Eira to face her. “All those council chambers, maybe? Spending all that time cooped up in Ba Sing Se can’t be good for your health.”

Hearing her own words in Gwaine’s voice did nothing to improve Mithian’s temper. “You don’t understand what’s expected of the heir to the Earth Kingdom’s throne.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Gwaine agreed, flicking his hair off his face. “I mean, perhaps we could all learn a thing or two from Elena. You, for instance, might benefit from a little, uh, distraction every now and then.” He winked at her.

“Your Highness,” Leon said from behind Mithian. She ignored him, instead narrowing her eyes at Gwaine.

“Why, so I can end up like you? No ties, no responsibilities? Sounds like a stable life.”

“Your Highness,” Leon said, a little louder.

“Doesn’t look like you’re enjoying your life like this, either,” Gwaine pointed out.

Before Mithian could respond, Leon tapped her pointedly on the shoulder. “Your Highness!”

“What?” she snapped, rounding on him.

He pointed, out to sea.

The others turned to look. A dark cloud, backlight by the sun, rushed toward the island.

“Are those . . . airbenders?” Gwaine muttered, shading his eyes.

Now that Mithian looked again, she saw Gwaine was right. As the “cloud” moved closer, she could see individual airbenders and bison weaving through the air. Even as she watched, one gliding figure faltered and fell toward the ocean. Three more airbenders streaked down to catch the figure and drag it back up to an air bison.

“Didn’t you say they come to trade?” Mithian asked sharply.

Eira gaped. “Not  _ this _ many! That’s got to be half the temple!”

Mithian swallowed hard. This did not look like a trade delegation.

Eira turned away. “Clear the center of the village!” she yelled, running and waving her arms to attract attention. “We have company!”

Within minutes, the airbenders arrived with a massive gust of wind that raised a cloud of dust and set everyone coughing. Many were wounded and bleeding. Crying and yelling filled the air.

Mithian stumbled over, grabbing the nearest airbender who looked halfway alive. “What happened? Speak quickly!”

“Waterbenders from the south!” the man gasped. “They came out of nowhere! We had no way to defend ourselves---”

Horror filled Mithian as she surveyed the scene. There were probably a hundred airbenders all told. “Is this all? Where are the rest?”

The airbender gulped, tears streaking his face. “Dead or captured. We saved everyone we could.”

Mithian let him return to his work, then rushed forward to help an old monk dismount her air bison.

The monk was groaning, “The children . . . I tried so hard to save them . . .”

Mithian thought she might vomit, but she only put an arm around the old woman. “Y-you’re safe now.”

When the villagers had patched up and fed who could be, Mithian marched up to her mother. Annis stood with arms crossed, looking stormier than Mithian remembered her looking for a long time.

“You cannot let this go unanswered,” Mithian hissed. “Attacking the Air Nomads? Unacceptable! They don’t even have a military!”

“I cannot interfere in another nation’s war,” Annis said, then held up a hand to hold off Mithian’s protests. “But I doubt this will end here. I fear we have barely dodged a boulder.”

“What do you mean?”

Annis looked troubled as she surveyed the milling refugees. “Do you suppose the timing of this attack was so coincidental? The Avatar himself was there not long ago. I think Cenred hoped to capture Merlin, but failed.”

“Thank the spirits Merlin moved on from here already, especially if Cenred is following,” Mithian muttered. Annis only frowned.

Her eyes searched the crowd again. Hadn’t Merlin said Elena and Lancelot were at the Air Temple? Where were they? Surely . . . surely they hadn’t been---

“Queen Annis!” An older Air Nomad stumbled up. “You must evacuate the island! We were followed by a whole fleet of ships!”

Annis gripped his shoulder, her mouth pinched. “How many?”

“At least a hundred.”

Mithian clutched her heart. A hundred Water Tribe ships? “This is an invasion,” she said.

Annis nodded grimly, her eyes searching the south. She turned to Leon. “Send for a runner. Find the Avatar and bring him back. There’s going to be war.”


	5. Exodus

“Lancelot!” Elena hissed, clinging to his hand. “Where are you taking me?”

He grinned back at her. “You’ll see! It’ll be worth it.”

It was early morning on the spring solstice. Merlin had escaped the Air Temple only hours before. 

“What did Edwin say to you last night, anyway?” Elena asked. “Do you think he really poisoned the air bison?”

“I think he was just disappointed Merlin left so quickly,” Lancelot said. “I’m sure there will be people in the future who will try to control Merlin because of his powers. But I don’t think Edwin is one of them.”

He kept hold of her hand as he led her up the steps. Most of the temple activity took place in the lower levels. Elena hadn’t seen anyone climb this high, even in the Northern Air Temple.

“Are we allowed up here?” she asked curiously.

Lancelot shot her an amused glance. “Would it matter to you if we weren’t?”

She grinned. “Not really.”

The white walls of the temple glowed in the pre-sunrise light, and Elena rubbed sleep out of her eyes. Many of the monks were already awake, but it was the solstice! Elena had been looking forward to sleeping in a little. Unfortunately, Lancelot had shaken her awake before the sun breached the horizon and dragged her up these neverending stairs.

“This had better be good,” she warned.

He grinned back at her, squeezing her fingers. “It will be.”

Racing up on their quick feet, they reached the top in only a few minutes, breathing hard. They met a heavy wooden door, an oddity in a temple where few doors existed. “We should have just taken our gliders up,” Elena said, gasping for air.

“There’s no way into this room with a glider,” Lancelot answered, rummaging in his pockets.

Elena eyed the door. “What’s behind this? Another Avatar room?” When the wind whistled around the tower, she heard a faint chiming sound from behind the door.

Lancelot shook his head, then produced a ring with one key attached.

“It’s  _ locked _ ?” Elena couldn’t believe it. She had never met a locked door in an air temple before, unless it was to the Avatar rooms---and those were ridiculously easy for an airbender to open.

He nodded, inserting the key. “I wheedled the key out of Edwin before you got up. He thought my research was very interesting.”

“Oh, are you finally going to tell me what you’ve found?” Elena asked as he wrestled to turn the key in the old, stiff lock.

“I think I made a breakthrough last night!” Lancelot crowed. “I didn’t even sleep after Merlin left, just read and translated. But now I think I know what’s behind this door . . .”

The key turned with a screech and a clunk, and the two airbenders pushed it open.

The room obviously hadn’t been visited for a long time: a thick layer of dust lay in flurries over the floor. There were thin slits on the walls of the round tower, too thin for even an airbender to slip through. And in the middle---

“Spirits above, I knew it,” Lancelot breathed.

Hanging from a wire in the middle of the room was a wind chime: four purple crystals surrounded by silver chimes that rang in the wind whistling through the slits.

“What is it?” Elena gasped, moving forward to inspect the chimes, which hung at head-height. “How came this here?”

“It’s been here for centuries,” Lancelot said. “From my reading, it’s called the Sorcerer’s Chimes.”

Elena cocked an eyebrow. “Sorcerer? Lancelot, you know magic’s not real.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “But people used to called benders ‘sorcerers.’ Thousands of years ago.”

She peered at the crystals, wondering why he wanted to show her this. She had little interest in the past. “Is this thousands of years old?”

Lancelot reached out carefully and unhooked the chimes from the wire. “Apparently.”

“I thought you were researching, you know---” She glanced toward the door, which was only mostly closed. “Merlin’s little problem.”

“That’s what started this,” he agreed, running one finger lightly down a crystal. “I wanted to study this crystal because I  _ think _ they may be connected.” He shook his head, looking dissatisfied. “If only people knew the location of the Spirit Library. I’m sure I could find more information there.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Even  _ I _ haven’t been able to find the Spirit Library for you, Lancelot. Why do you think they’re connected?”

“You remember, last year---” he started, then frowned. “No, I’d better just show you my notes. Then you’ll see.”

“Suit yourself!” she said brightly, then plucked the chimes from his hand. He laughed as she looked closer. “Well, whoever they came from, they’re beautiful crystals,” she commented, admiring the purple color. She went to give them back, but jumped as the door rattled, then opened all the way. Lancelot and Elena whirled around.

It was Alvarr. The three stood blinking at each other for several moments. Lancelot side-stepped to hide the chimes in Elena’s hand.

Alvarr looked from one to the other. “What are you two doing up here?”

“Edwin gave us the key,” Lancelot answered, trying to act natural and failing utterly.

Elena remembered with unease what Merlin had said the day before. Could Alvarr really have been working with Edwin to keep Merlin in the temple? Perhaps Edwin had even sent Alvarr up there to---what? Hurt them? Why? The thought was laughable.

“Did he now?”

Lancelot nodded and Elena laughed nervously. “Yes, he did! We were just . . . admiring . . .” 

She gestured around the empty room, trying to casually hide the chime behind her back. “It’s a nice room,” she finished lamely.

Alvarr’s dark eyes narrowed, and his next smile was definitely threatening. “Yes, isn’t it beautiful.”

All three of them moved at the same moment: Alvarr raised his staff and darted forward, Elena shot up into the high ceiling, and Lancelot dodged to the side. Lancelot punched out at Alvarr, knocking him to the opposite wall as Elena landed lightly on her feet.

“Run,” Lancelot gasped as Alvarr rushed forward again, twirling his staff. Alvarr’s eyes darted to the chimes in Elena’s hand, and she gulped.  _ He wanted the Sorcerer’s Chime _ .

She darted for the door. Alvarr issued a slice of air at her, but she dodged easily. Lancelot slammed into Alvarr from the side, giving her time to yank the door open and race for the stairs.

“Give---me---those---crystals!”

Alvarr’s roar was punctuated by a cry of pain from Lancelot. Elena turned back around, her heart pounding. Alvarr threw himself at her, and she screamed, ducking to avoid his blow. His shoulder slammed into her back, knocking them both down the stairs.

Elena fell helplessly, the smooth walls unable to slow her descent. Eventually she slowed, every bone aching. The elbow of her right arm, unprotected and still sore from the amputation seven months ago, throbbed. She sucked air into her abused lungs, struggling to sit up.

The Sorcerer’s Chimes, somehow still in one piece, lay about two steps above her---right next to Alvarr’s twitching hand. He groaned, rubbing his head. Elena could hear Lancelot racing down the stairs toward them.

She struggled to her feet, slipping on the slick stone. He jerked and opened his eyes, spotting the crystals just as she grabbed for them.

“No!” he growled, smacking her hand out of the way and snatching the crystals. Desperate, Elena threw herself on him, slapping his hand like a disobedient child without even thinking.

Startled, Alvarr dropped the chimes; she caught them and whirled around, almost falling again in her haste to get away.

Alvarr reached out for her, but he was too late: She dove sideways through a window slit and fell, the crystal clutched in her hands. The wind roared in her ears as she fell, the inner courtyard coming up fast. Elena flipped over and landed on her feet, air blasting out around her.

She looked up; both Alvarr and Lancelot had jumped after her. Her heart clenched, wanting to stop, wanting to help Lancelot, but what could she do? She clutched the Sorcerer’s Chimes to her chest and ran toward the doors to the outer courtyard. The sun was barely up, but most airbenders would be awake by now.

Behind her, Alvarr landed, yelling, “Stop!” 

Then it happened, clear as day---

Elena saw herself, as if in a vision, turning around and facing Alvarr, planting her feet, bracing herself and catching him with a fist to the chest. He would fly backward---land painfully---Lancelot would catch up with her and together, hands clasped, they would finish the escape to the courtyard, only to find---

Elena pushed the crazy vision from her mind. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t face Alvarr! He was taller, stronger, and older! It would be suicide.

Instead, she darted through the doorway, out into the main courtyard.

She skidded to a halt.

The courtyard was crawling with waterbenders. Dressed in blue and white fur, bristling with pikes, clubs, and boomerangs, they marched up the courtyard from the cliffs and paths.

Alvarr grabbed her from behind, and she screamed again.

“Now, give me---”

Lancelot barrelled into them both, breaking them apart. Alvarr cursed as Lancelot grabbed her.

“Waterbenders!” he gasped, catching sight of the invaders. Other airbenders had seen the Tribesmen as well, and a cry went up in the temple.

Elena dragged Lancelot away as Alvarr lunged again, streaking down the side of the courtyard. At this point, their only hope would be to reach the air bison.

“Get them!” Alvarr roared from behind them. “Get those two!”

“Give me the crystal!” Lancelot panted.

“No, then he’ll attack  _ you _ !”

“Alvarr thinks  _ you _ have it!” he insisted, holding out his hand. “We  _ must _ keep it safe!”

She relented and handed him the crystal as they turned the corner by the air bison living quarters.

Edwin stood near the entrance, ushering panicking Air Nomads toward the roaring bison. He grabbed Lancelot’s shoulder. “What’s happening??” he demanded, his scarred face twisted in horror. “How did they get in here without anyone seeing?”

Elena burst into tears without warning, gasping for breath. “It was Alvarr!” she sobbed. “He attacked us!”

Edwin gaped. “No, no . . . it couldn’t have been a Nomad . . .”

Alvarr, leading a whole troop of waterbenders, burst around the corner. “Give me that crystal!” he roared.

Only Lancelot held his ground, whirling his staff about to create a gale. The Tribesmen yelled, some of them falling to the ground, but Alvarr had already countered Lancelot’s blow, racing forward with his staff raised.

“No!” Edwin yelled, darting out in front of Lancelot, hands raised.

Elena couldn’t watch; she turned her head, gasping, but heard the crunch as Alvarr’s staff made contact and the thump of Edwin’s body hitting the ground.

In a flash, her fear disappeared. Alvarr had  _ killed an airbender _ . The ultimate sin.

Even Alvarr seemed surprised by what he had done, pausing to look down at the crumpled monk. Elena clenched her hand into a fist and rushed him. Lancelot gave a cry of warning, but it was too late---she smashed into Alvarr, sending him sprawling.

“Run!” she screamed, the regrouped waterbenders charging. Lancelot took her hand again, and they raced into the air bison enclosure.

Almost all the bison had already taken off, some without passengers. Screaming airbenders beckoned them to the nearest bison, which was just taking off.

“Take the crystal!” Lancelot gasped, shoving it at her. “Get on, get on!”

Elena gathered a flurry of air around her and took off, catching hold of the saddle as the bison lifted into the air.

She almost released the saddle as Lancelot gave a cry behind her. Hands grabbed her wrist and arm, pulling her into the saddle.

A waterbender had wrapped water around Lancelot’s legs, yanking him back to the  ground, but Lancelot was a fierce opponent, even while grounded. He swung his staff into one waterbender’s midsection, and blasted three others away with airbending. Flipping his glider open, he took off, streaming up toward the bison.

Elena clenched the Sorcerer’s Chimes to her chest, muttering, “Come on, come on, come on . . .”

Lancelot reached out a hand to grab the end of the air bison’s tail---Elena scrambled toward him---

Alvarr came out of nowhere, slamming into Lancelot’s glider feet first.

“No!” Elena screamed, watching as the two airbenders fall back toward the waterbender-flooded temple. Lancelot’s glider had tear in it from Alvarr’s attack, and he fell helplessly, his hand still reached out to grasp Elena’s.

Elena grasped for the nearest glider, but its owner grabbed her. “Elena---it’s too late, don’t waste your life---”

“It’s not too late, he’s there,  _ he’s right there _ \---” She tried to shake the airbender, but others grabbed her. She couldn’t escape all of them.

The air bison swerved around a peak to avoid a volley of ice, and, just like that, Lancelot was out of sight.

* * *

The airbenders didn’t put up much of a fight. Then again, Morgause hadn’t expected them to. Most had escaped on the flying bison or gliders, but they had managed to capture about fifteen.

Queen Mab peered into each Air Nomad’s face, her eyes black as pitch. “Where is the Avatar? Where is he?” Each airbender shook their head.

“You’re not going to find him that way, Mab,” Cenred said lazily, leaning against a nearby pillar. “Where’s that spy? He could tell us, I’m sure.”

Mab scowled. “You’d better hope the Avatar didn’t escape, Cenred.” He shrugged.

A blue-clad Tribeswoman stumbled to a halt behind Cenred, a tall airbender in tow. “My lord,” she gasped. “Alvarr has news.”

Cenred looked the tall airbender up and down unfavorably. “Are you sure this airbender can be trusted, Enmyria?” he grumbled. “He looked questionable to me.”

Enmyria gave Alvarr an adoring look through her lashes, and he smiled back fatuously. “I’m sure, my lord. Alvarr would never betray me.”

_ He’s already betrayed his own people _ , Morgause thought.  _ What are you to him? _ She didn’t trust this Alvarr: Betrayal was a cardinal sin in the Water Tribe.

Cenred rolled his eyes. “Very well, tell me your report, airbender.”

“This morning, I extracted the location of the Air Nomad crystal from Edwin,” Alvarr said, straightening. “But two of the Avatar’s companions found it first.”

Morgause scowled. “So the Avatar is looking for the crystals as well? Tell me at least that you have it.”

Alvarr shook his head. “I thought Lancelot had it, but we failed to recover it from his body. It’s possible Elena escaped.”

Morgause remembered the thin, spritely airbender and her tall, handsome companion from Arthur’s assault on the Fire Nation. She felt disappointment at Lancelot’s death; he had seemed like such a noble spirit. He would have fought to the last. “Who killed Lancelot?” she asked.

“I did,” Enmyria volunteered.

“And the Avatar’s gone,” Alvarr scowled. “In the dark of the morning, he flew off.”

“What?!” Mab snarled. “You mean he’s escaped us? We have to go after him at once!”

“He’s had too much of a head start,” Alvarr protested. “By the time we reach him, he’ll have news of our attack. We need to try a different tactic.”

Mab swooped into Alvarr’s face, hissing. “Don’t tell me what to do, human! If you had done your job correctly and kept the Avatar here, then we wouldn’t have this problem!”

“And you don’t even have the crystal,” Morgause mused, her fingers twitching. “What use are you?”

Alvarr and Enmyria exchanged nervous looks. “I got this temple for you,” Alvarr insisted. “You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me!”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Cenred drawled. “An airbender, teaching waterbenders how to fight? Next, firebenders will be teaching you patience! No, we would have found our way in here without you.”

_ Not that you would have been brave enough to come in without a man on the inside _ , Morgause thought, but privately. “You’re dear to Enmyria, and for that reason we will let you live. We Tribesman value family highly---something I’m not sure you Air Nomads would understand . . . do you even have families?”

Alvarr sputtered, but Cenred waved him away. “Enmyria, gather a damage report. I want all the soldiers ready to leave in the hour. We’ve got an Avatar to catch.”

Enmyria saluted. “And the Air Nomads?”

Cenred looked at their captives, who knelt, some looking fearful, others unafraid. “Kill them.”

Mab slunk away as the soldiers scurried to obey. Morgause watched curiously, as the spirit glided down a long corridor out of sight.

Morgause hesitated, then followed. Mab drifted into the airy lightness of the temple, dust whirling in every corner, bodies and blood and abandoned gliders laying sadly in empty corridors.

The spirit queen drifted through two huge doors that stood open. Morgause couldn’t see past the darkness behind them, but she stepped closer and waited for her eyes to adjust.

Morgause gasped as she surveyed the room in front of her. It was full of statues: past Avatars.

Mab floated over to the last statue in the line, a bent old man who was probably Anhora of the Earth Kingdom. For a moment she stared into his blank eyes, and then---

She punched. Anhora’s face shattered under her blow. Morgause jerked in surprise.

Mab didn’t stop there, not until all the statues on the lower level were in shambles, left with only their bases attached to the floor.

Mab turned with vengeance in her eyes, and for a moment, Morgause truly feared that she was next. Bloodbending was useless on a spirit, and Morgause had never learned to spiritbend.

Mab jabbed her finger at Anhora’s destroyed statue. “That---That is what I will do to the Avatar once he opens the Spirit Portal for me. I will  _ rip him to shreds _ . There will be nothing left, not even for the buzzard wasps to find.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.


	6. Suspect

Arthur had one arm bandaged in a sling when Gwen finished climbing down from the airship. He looked up at her and said, “No. Absolutely not, you’re  _ not _ coming with us.”

She set her jaw, the other wounded soldiers heaving themselves onto the ladder behind her. “I’m  _ coming _ , Arthur,” she said firmly. “Don’t try to stop me. If anyone should stay behind, it’s you! Your arm---”

“It’s fine,” he snapped, flinching away from her touch. Arthur’s face was drawn in lines of misery and anger, and a longing to hug him flashed through her. “You should  _ stay behind _ . It’s dangerous.”

“She knows Olaf,” Gaius pointed out, panting as he came to a stop beside Gwen. “Let her come, Arthur. Perhaps she will get through to him when no one else could.”

Arthur didn’t look happy, but he said no more. Alice bustled up, clucking over Arthur’s poorly bandaged arm. “You must let me look at it, sire,” she insisted, peering at the bruised skin.

“Do what you can for now,” Arthur said, “but quickly. We can’t delay this meeting. I’m surprised Olaf has even paused his attacks.”

The three metal airships hung over the plaza, which was covered in debris from the tsunamis. The Water Tribe warships, bristling with ballistas and spears, loomed at the end by the docks.

Gwen hesitantly touched Arthur’s good arm. He blinked, looking away from the damage to meet her eyes. “Is it true?” she whispered. “What the messenger you sent said. Is---?”

“That’s what Percival told us,” Arthur replied, closing his eyes briefly.

She bit her lip. “Poor Olaf.”

His jaw clenched. “His grief doesn’t excuse  _ this _ .”

He didn’t argue with Gwen going to their party again, instead moving around to pick others. Alice, of course, with Gaius and Valdis, and a few other soldiers who were mostly firebenders. Alice fussed over Arthur’s arm; the fingers of his good arm tapped restlessly against his leg. Gwen dithered at his side, wondering if she should take his hand.

Percival returned alone soon after, his square face creased with lines of anger. “I managed to convince him to talk with you,” he said, nodding at Gwen over Arthur’s shoulder. “The rest of the waterbenders . . . we want to keep the peace. You don’t need to worry about us.”

He led the group up to the center ship, which moved in close enough to lower a gangplank. Soldiers peered over the sides, watching their approach. 

Percival walked in front of Arthur as they entered the ship, eyeing his fellow Wolf Guard despite his earlier words. And just like that, they were surrounded by waterbenders. The Tribesmen didn’t look hostile, more . . . anxious. Gwen found herself shunted more toward the center of the group by Valdis, whose eyes flitted rapidly from one soldier to the next.

Olaf stood in the center of the ship, his hands clenched into fists. Freya stood at his side, wringing her hands. Arthur approached them slowly.

The two men sized each other up in a moment of silence.

_ Be the bigger person, Arthur _ , Gwen thought, eyeing the hard line of Arthur’s jaw and his narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Olaf,” Arthur mumbled---but he said it.

Olaf pulled his sword out of its sheath so fast Gwen barely had time to react. Percival and Valdis both dove forward at the same time, the older woman wrenching her sword out while Percival yanked on Olaf’s arm. Gaius yelled and knocked Alice over in an attempt to protect her, sending them both tumbling to the deck.

“No, my lord!” Percival yelled. Metal rang as soldiers reacted. Owain ignited a flame in his hand. Heart pumping, Gwen clenched her fists and positioned herself at Arthur’s back; there wasn’t anything she could do on this wooden ship but defend him with her own body.

Arthur reached for Excalibur as well, but stopped and held his hands up. “Wait, wait!” His soldiers didn’t lower their weapons, but none of them charged.

Olaf was yelling almost incoherently. “I’ll kill you!---I’ll kill you!---” while Percival restrained him. 

“My lord! My lord, you said you would listen!” Percival pled. The other Tribesmen looked at each other uneasily. Freya scurried forward between Arthur and Olaf, fending off the uneasy guards with her hands.

“Everyone just---just calm down!” she yelled, her entire body shaking. “No one attack!”

“You killed her!” Olaf roared, breaking free of Percival’s arms and lunging at Arthur. 

Everyone dove forward at once, yelling incoherently. Gwen tried to get in front of Arthur, but Valdis hip-checked her. Arthur scrambled for Excalibur to ward off Olaf’s wild blow, and Freya ended up smushed between the two men as Olaf slammed full-tilt into her. The whole ship rocked from side to side as all the waterbenders reacted, and Gwen almost lost his footing, turning to push Valdis off to the side. Arthur was surrounded by waterbenders, a confusing mush of people trying to both defend Olaf and stop him from killing Arthur. 

Owain hooked his ankle around Olaf’s and swept his feet from under him. Percival rushed forward and dove to his knees by his chief, protecting Olaf’s body from any attack. “My lord, my lord, please listen to him!”

Olaf was crying, cowering on the deck, all fight gone. “How could you have taken her from me?”

Gwen clasped her hands together. Arthur, who had finally managed to unsheath his sword, stood with open mouth at the sobbing chief. He looked at Gwen helplessly.

She raised her eyebrows significantly, then knelt by Percival’s side. Hesitantly, Arthur copied her on Olaf’s other side.

“I didn’t kill Vivian,” he said, watching the chief warily. “Or order her death. If you want me as your ally, you must work  _ with _ me.”

He glanced at Gwen again, and she nodded. G _ o on _ . He fidgeted. “But I really am sorry for your loss. Vivian was a  . . . good friend and I will mourn her.”

Olaf still didn’t answer. Arthur looked at him for a second, then stood abruptly, his eyes still hard. “Let’s take this up to the caldera,” he said, and turned to leave.

* * *

It took a while to calm Olaf down, even once they had reached the palace. Alice sat on one side, Gwen on the other, and patted his hand awkwardly as he cried.

Arthur sat on Gwen’s other side, his leg jiggling impatiently. “Tell me everything that happened,” he muttered to Percival. Gwen kept her eyes on Olaf but tuned her ears in.

“A group of firebenders attacked the tribe about nine days past,” Percival explained. “They stole a valuable artifact and, in the struggle, Vivian was killed.”

“She died protecting her people,” Freya added. “An honorable death.”

Arthur flinched as Olaf dropped his head into his hands with another sob.

“Firebenders?”

“We didn’t recognize any of them,” Percival said. “But they wore Fire Nation uniforms.”

Arthur clenched his jaw. “Morgana.”

“She had many firebenders who followed her,” Owain pointed out from his spot behind Arthur’s chair, ignoring Valdis’  _ shush _ ing noises. “They still wore their uniforms.”

“We’ve been wondering where she went off to,” Percival muttered. “Now I guess we know. Many of them covered their faces.”

“Looks like this is exactly what she wanted,” Arthur said harshly, turning sharply in his chair to face Olaf. “You fell into her trap. I’m your ally, Olaf; why didn’t you send a message? Something? You could have caused a war with both our nations!”

Percival and Freya exchanged uneasy looks when Olaf still didn’t answer. “Vivian was his only child,” Percival explained. “He’s very protective of her.”

Arthur didn’t quite hide his scowl. Gwen knew that his father had tried to set up an engagement with Vivian when she and Arthur were both children, not knowing that Vivian was a waterbender, but Olaf had quickly shut that down. Vivian was---had been---Olaf’s golden child, his shining light in the cold, dark North Pole.

She shot Arthur a quelling look and turned to Percival. “You said they stole a valuable artifact?”

“Yes, that seems to be the reason they attacked,” Percival confirmed. “It was well-coordinated; we didn’t have the time to beat them back. Most waterbending thieves, of course, attack at night, but they worked to their strengths and---”

“---attacked at noon,” Arthur finished, nodding. It was a typical firebender move. “What did they steal?”

“An ancient crystal, known as the Crystal of Neahtid.”

Arthur sat up straight. “The Crystal of Neahtid? But . . .” He slowly sunk back into his chair, his eyes drifting off into the middle distance. Gwen sat up in her chair, interested; she had never heard of such a thing, but Arthur obviously had.

“You’ve heard of it, then?” Percival asked, looking surprised. “Most people haven’t, even in the North. I hadn’t until Olaf explained it.”

“It’s an old story,” Arthur said slowly. “Not many people know it.”

Gwen leaned forward. “What is the story?”

Arthur slowly stood, like he hadn’t heard her; his eyes were unfocused.

“Arthur?” Gwen questioned.

He didn’t look at her. “I’ll be right back.” He turned on his heel and marched out, two firebenders following.

“Where’s he going?” Olaf demanded, seeming to pay attention for the first time.

“My lord, he’ll return shortly,” Gwen soothed, laying her hand on the chief’s arm. She turned back to Percival. “What’s the story with this crystal?”

“Thousands of years ago,” Freya responded, “an old sorcerer came to the Water Tribe---back when there was only one Tribe---and gifted us with the Crystal of Neahtid. It’s said that it can give visions to the worthy.”

“It’s true,” Olaf grunted. “It really can show you things.”

“What sort of things?” Gwen asked. Olaf didn’t answer and Freya shrugged.

“The future, I suppose.”

Arthur returned not long after, a curve to his spine that Gwen didn’t ofen see. “It is as I feared. The Phoenix Eye is missing from the vaults. Morgana must have taken it when she fled from the Fire Nation.”

“The Phoenix Eye?” Freya gasped. “Here?”

“What’s that?” Gwen asked, feeling out of the loop.

“There were three other crystals besides the Crystal of Neahtid,” Freya said. “The sorcerer granted one to each nation. I thought the Phoenix Eye had been lost long ago!”

“We found it in the Sun Warriors ruins fifteen years ago. Morgana was interested in them. She researched them for months, if not years.” Arthur twisted his mother’s ring feverishly. “I helped for a while.”

“What could she want these crystals for?” Gwen asked. Everyone else shook their heads.

“Does anyone know where the other two are?” Percival said, leaning forward.

“The Water Tribe crystal has been stolen back and forth between the two tribes for centuries. No one knows who originally had it.”

Arthur frowned. “There are four Air Temples and the Earth Kingdom is huge. The other two crystals could literally be anywhere. Father never would tell us much about the crystal. He got angry at us from even asking. But we discovered there were books in the library we could read to find out about the crystals. And we found some interesting things.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Like what?”

“Some legends say the crystals were stolen from their original owner by a powerful dragon who distributed them to the four nations, back in the times when spirits roamed the earth at will.”

Percival smirked. “Dragon? Now that sounds like a Fire Nation slant.”

Arthur shrugged. “Not any less believable than a  _ sorcerer _ . Everyone know magic’s not real, Percival.”

“What say you, Gaius, Alice?” Freya asked.

Gaius put his chin into his hands. Alice shook her head. 

“I knew about the crystal,” she said, “but I know nothing about it. My focus is on the future, not the past.”

“I studied the Eye of the Phoenix when Uther obtained it in the Sun Warrior ruins,” Gaius added. “But I know precious little else than Arthur does. Some texts say the crystals came from a location in the Spirit World, known as the Crystal Cave.”

Percival frowned. “That sounds familiar.”

“That’s where Merlin met the Puppetmaster, isn’t it?” Arthur’s eyebrows drawn together. “And Morgana  _ went _ there, to gather information.”

Freya was nodding. “Yes, that makes sense. Merlin said he saw visions in those crystals. Just like the visions you might find in the Crystal of Neahtid?”

They all glanced at Olaf, but he offered nothing more about the visions. “Gaius and I will look into it,” Alice offered, and Arthur nodded.

“What do we do now?” Freya asked softly. “It’ve been nine days since the attack. Morgana could be anywhere.”

“I’m not stopping until she’s dead,” Olaf growled. “She murdered my daughter.”

“We’ll have to change tactics,” Arthur said quickly. “The Fire Nation also wants to stop her, but we might also need to work on why she wants these crystals. She has two of them, so she might target an Air Temple or the Earth Kingdom next.”

He turned to Valdis. “Send messages to Queen Annis and the four Air Temples warning them of this new threat right away.” She bowed and walked away. “Perhaps we could even visit the Western Air Temple, see what they know of the crystals,” Arthur suggested.

“The head monks do seem to know things they don’t tell the general airbender population,” Percival said, rolling his eyes. Gwen knew he referring to how they had told Mordred for years that he was the Avatar.

They talked for several more minutes, throwing ideas around, but there was simply no way to know for sure where Morgana would go next. Finally, Arthur stood. “Let’s adjourn for today, it’s getting late.”

The others followed suit. Gwen laid her hand carefully on Olaf’s arm. “My lord? It’s night, why don’t we find you a room to sleep in?”

Arthur came to stand at her side, his eyes still wary. “We have many comfortable guest rooms. In the morning, we’ll talk more and find a solution.”

Olaf shook his head, seeming to sag against the side of the table. “I haven’t slept . . . I haven’t slept since I lost her.”

For the first time since the tsunami hit, Gwen saw compassion flood Arthur’s face, and he took the chief’s arm.

“Let me walk you to your room,” Arthur said.

“I’m not lying about the visions in those crystals, you know,” Olaf said suddenly, looking earnestly into Arthur’s eyes. “I saw something once.” His eyes looked damp, but he did not cry. “It was when I was a very young man, before I was even betrothed, and my father took me down to the vault to view the treasures. I looked into the crystal, and I saw . . . I saw . . .”

He put a hand over his mouth. Gwen didn’t even dare breathe.

Olaf raised his eyes to the window, where the moon could faintly be seen, glowing ghostly in the dark sky. “I saw the day Vivian was born. I saw myself holding her in my arms, looking into her eyes, holding her tiny hand. I looked forward to that day for years. It was the first time I felt truly alive.”


End file.
